Harry Potter and the Blood Conspiracy
by Melofors
Summary: The war is over, the Chosen One has defeated Voldemort. How does the wizarding world recover from such dreadful times? How do Harry and his friends maintain peace? Starting after the Battle of Hogwarts, follows canon as best as possible.
1. Restoration

It was the silence that woke him. Living on the run for almost a year had trained his brain to be prepared for the small sounds of the outdoors. The young man opened his eyes and quietly sat up.

It took a moment for Harry Potter to realize where he was. Dark curtains hung around the comfortable and familiar four-poster bed. With a start, he realized he was back in Gryffindor tower, in the bedroom he shared with his classmates. With that realization, the memories of the past day flooded back into his mind. They overwhelmed him as the realizations crashed over him.

Voldemort was gone, really gone. Harry didn't have to fear for his life anymore. The war was over. He should have felt elated or overjoyed at the thought of it, but instead the victory was bittersweet. So many lives had been lost for his cause. Fred was gone. So were Lupin and Tonks, Colin Creevy, and so many others. Could the Weasleys forgive him for what he had done to their family? Harry wouldn't blame them if they couldn't. What about little Teddy Lupin? Could he love a godfather that played a part in his parent's deaths? The grief over lost friends and broken futures weighed heavily on his heart.

A sudden snore brought him back to reality. Harry ruefully grinned at the sound, remembering how loud Neville was while he was sleeping. Pulling aside the curtains, Harry reached for the side table, fumbling in the dark for his moleskin pouch and glasses. His vision cleared as he put on his glasses, and he began digging in his pouch. Retrieving the battered, old pocket watch, he glanced at the time by the dim light of the moon; it was just after four in the morning.

Now that the curtains were pulled back, Harry got a proper look around the room. The beds were all filled, curtains closed. He could hear Neville, and he saw Ron's bag next to his bed. He assumed that Seamus and Dean were here as well. Although they missed their last year at Hogwarts, the boys were together one last time.

Harry swung his feet around to the side of the bed. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Too many thoughts were running through his head. Trying to pushing them out, he busied himself gathering up his things. His rucksack lay beside the bed where he left it last night. On the nightstand, he saw a small stack of freshly laundered clothes. Harry recognized Kreacher 's handiwork. Picking up the pile, Harry's hand brushed across the three wands that lay next to it.

Closest to him was his holly and phoenix feather wand, now marred with a faint scar on it's surface marking where he had magically repaired it. Next to the holly wand was the hawthorn wand. He had taken it from Draco Malfoy weeks ago, thereby winning the wand's allegiance. This was the wand that he had used against Voldemort. Beside to the hawthorn wand was the Elder wand. This was the wand that Voldemort had looted from Dumbledore's tomb to use against Harry. Only by pure luck or fate, Harry had managed to win it's allegiance first, by disarming Draco, who had previously disarmed Dumbledore on the night of his death.

Harry paused, looking at these three wands. They all felt right against his hand, like they were some natural extension of his arm. Slowly, he closed his hand around the holly wand. It felt warm in his hand. He remembered what Ollivander had told him all those years ago: "The wand chooses the wizard". Here was the wand that had chosen him, not a wand he had won. It was his wand. The familiar feeling of it in his hand was comforting, like greeting a friend after the return of a long journey. The wand had been his first link to the magical world, and holding it brought a small measure of peace.

Harry glanced down at the other wands. He was not sure what to do with the hawthorn wand, but he knew what needed to be done with the Elder wand. It must be restored back to it's proper place, back in the tomb with Dumbledore. Now seemed as good of a time as any. With everyone asleep, no one would see what Harry was about to do.

He began to pull on the clean clothes, wincing as his bruised and battered body moved against the fabric.. A large black bruise was beginning to form on his chest where Voldemort's Killing Curse had hit him in the woods. His arms were covered by more bruises, dirt, and scabbed cuts and scrapes. Harry had avoided medical attention yesterday, arguing that his injuries were less severe than others. His muscles groaned in protest as he pulled a shirt over his head.

Reaching down into his rucksack, Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak. Despite all that it had been through in the past years, and especially the past day, it still seemed perfect. Of course, it was one of the legendary Hallows, so Harry did not expect anything less. He picked up the Elder wand and his holly wand, and silently left the dorm room.

Harry was expecting the common room to be empty. To his surprise, Ron and Hermione were asleep on the couch in front of the fire, Ron's head in Hermione's lap. Harry smiled as he remembered that not everything that happened yesterday was tragic. His two best friends had finally managed to act on their feelings for each other. It had been a long time coming. Harry tried to walk past them quietly, but bumped his foot against a pile of rubble, causing a small slide of debris. He swore under his breath, holding his foot.

Hermione's head perked up and looked around. After a moment she whispered "Harry? Is that you?"

Harry froze, not wanting to disturb his friends' rest. Hopefully she would just think that it was just the sound of damaged castle settling.

However, Hermione was not fooled. She sat straighter and continued to look around the room, focusing by the pile of rubble. "Harry, I know you're here. What are you doing?" she asked.

Ron stirred in his sleep, mumbling " 's alright 'Mione?" Hermione glanced back down at him, her face softening slightly. With a sigh, Harry pulled off the cloak.

Hermione looked him over once, and then gently nudged Ron's shoulder. "Ron. Wake up. Harry's here."

Ron groaned, and blinked his eyes open. They fell on Hermione's face, and his own face broke into a wide grin. He was evidently remembering yesterday as well. He sat up, noticing Harry standing over by the stairs to the dorm. Stretching his arms up, he yawned "Wha... What's going on?"

Hermione's eyes flitted to Ron, and then quickly back to Harry as if he was going to disappear under the cloak. "I heard something, but I couldn't see anything. I assumed that Harry was under his cloak trying to sneak out."

Ron nodded at her, and turned to Harry. "You weren't thinking of sneaking off, were you, mate?"

Harry frowned at them "What? No! I was just... going for a walk, that's all."

"Harry, come on. What are you really doing?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows narrowing.

"Ok." Harry glanced around, making sure there was no one else in the room. Confirming that they were alone, he continued. "I was going down to Dumbledore's tomb. I was going to reseal it and place the Elder wand back in there. I didn't want anyone else to know, just in case someone wanted to take it again."

Hermione looked somewhat surprised and shared a sheepish look with Ron. "Oh," she said "We thought you might be trying to sneak out of the grounds to get away, so we waited down here. We didn't want you to sneak off alone."

Harry shook his head and slowly smiled. "I just can't get rid of you lot. Alright, let's go." One last late night adventure before leaving Hogwarts sounded fitting to Harry.

* * *

Soon the three of them were crossing the grounds together under the cloak. They were too tall for it, especially Ron, so their feet and some of their legs were visible. However, this didn't matter as there was no one to see them. Everyone seemed to be either in bed or out patrolling the boundaries of the castle. They skirted past broken trees and crumbled rubble, guided by the waning light of the moon. The castle looked as bad as Harry felt. Numerous scars and blast marks from spells pockmarked the ancient stones. Countless windows were shattered and there were many holes in the walls.

Soon, they were nearing the White Tomb. A cool breeze drifted across the lake towards them, casting the moonlight about the shore and gently pulling at the cloak as Harry pulled it off of them. Quietly, they approached the last resting place of their mentor. They stopped a few paces away. Harry heard Hermione gasp as they were able to view what had happened.

The case of the tomb was cracked and broken down the center. Each piece had slid onto the ground, exposing body inside to the elements. The burial cloth that had surrounded Dumbledore was gone, leaving the corpse wrapped in only a cloak of dark blue. Harry was suddenly taken back to the night when Dumbledore died, his body splayed at the base of the tower. Harry felt his eyes begin to fill with tears as he remembered.

He turned as he heard Hermione began to sob. Ron had drawn her into a tight embrace, twisting her away from the sight. Ron's hand clumsily stroked her brown hair. Ron's eyes were closed, and Harry suspected his friend was holding by tears as well.

Harry gathered himself together and drew the Elder wand. Waving it, he levitated the two halves of the cover together and repaired them. They sealed together seamlessly, not showing a sign of the destruction that had occurred. Harry marveled at the power of the Elder wand. He knew that he normally could not have done that all by himself.

Harry stepped forward, and paused above the tomb. If he kept the Elder wand, he would certainly be powerful. Perhaps powerful enough to prevent anyone else turning out like Voldemort. He knew that with the power of the Elder wand, he could change the world.

As quickly as that thought came, so came another. Dumbledore standing in the Great Hall during the feast of Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts. He remembered those blue eyes looking right at Harry as he said "Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right." He also remembered the discussion with Dumbledore in the white, clouded King's Cross Station about those who seek power and those who earn it. With a small sigh, Harry knew that he couldn't keep the wand. The temptations died as Harry gently placed the wand into the tomb. He drew his holly wand, and conjured a long white cloth which draped itself over the body.

Harry stepped back, and Ron and Hermione walked forward and joined him. The three of them stood there for a moment, quietly remembering.

Ron broke the silence. "Professor" he began hesitantly. "I... i don't know if you can hear me, but Harry said that you were out there, somewhere. Thanks for the Deluminator, and..." Ron paused, sniffing. Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled herself close to him. He drew himself back up and continued. "And for helping me to come back."

Hermione squeezed Ron's arm, and stepped away slightly, still holding his hand. "Professor, thank you for everything. I... thank you" she finished shyly.

Harry looked at the tomb. He had spent the past year struggling with doubts about Dumbledore until he had finally decided to trust in the man he had known. He had gotten the opportunity to speak with him again in that strange, peaceful place. While there was more he wanted to learn, Harry had said all he needed. "Rest in peace, Professor" he whispered.

With that, Harry used the holly wand to levitate the lid back onto the tomb. It settled down with a soft thud. The White Tomb was whole again.

After one final look, Harry turned and walked back towards the broken castle with his best friends.


	2. Curse Scars

It was well after dawn by the time Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked into the Great Hall. They had spent the morning wandering the castle and the grounds, visiting old haunts and familiar locations. They walked openly, the invisibility cloak tucked away in Harry's robes. They didn't speak much, instead silently drawing comfort from their friendship. As they walked, they surveyed the aftermath of the battle. The damage to their beloved school was horrible, but not irreparable.

Their walking eventually brought them back down to the Great Hall. They followed the sounds and smells of breakfast into the large room. The house tables had been restored the day before, but students and adults continued to sit anywhere chatting with each other. Up above, the enchanted ceiling showed a sky that promised a warm, beautiful spring day was head. As the three of them entered, a hush fell across the entire Hall. Harry could feel every eye in the room on him and his friends. Harry stared at the floor, overwhelmed by the attention. Conversation quickly picked up again, but he could still feel people watching him.

Ron however, seemed to be enjoying the attention. He nodded and smiled at the people staring at them. "Come on Harry, we're heroes!" he said, raising his hand and waving. "There's Mum and Dad. Let's see if they saved us any breakfast." He took Hermione's hand and started off down the table.

Harry looked at the Weasley family. Mr. Weasley and Bill seemed to be deep in discussion, but they were watching Ron and Hermione coming down the table with raised eyebrows. Fleur, Charlie, and Percy were seated around George, not saying anything. George was looking down at his porridge, swirling a spoon around aimlessly. Mrs. Weasley kept glancing between George and her husband while she stroked Ginny's hair. Ginny's head was in her hands, her long hair a curtain over her face.

Harry saw the grief of the Weasley family. He felt that this wasn't a time for outsiders like him. They needed to be together as a family right now. Having the person who had been responsible for so many attacks on their family sitting next to them would not help their grief. He turned away from the family he had hurt. Besides, a small voice inside him said, Ginny probably hates you for everything that's happened. She doesn't want to see you. That's why she's not looking at you.

Harry felt dread filling the pit of his stomach. The grief he had been trying to avoid all morning came rushing back into him. He looked around the room, seeing all the grieving friends and families. His mind filled in all the missing people from their groups. He couldn't stand to be there any longer. With a sudden start, he turned around and walked out of the Great Hall, turning to go up the large marble staircase.

Harry resumed his aimless wanderings around the castle. The pain of loss was greater now that Ron and Hermione were no longer beside him. Each splash of blood, every destroyed painting felt like a stab into his soul. The broken walls and crumpled statues felt like hammering blows from an angry giant. Harry staggered from corridor to corridor, soaking in all the pain and loss and grief that the culmination of the war brought.

Harry stopped next to a broken gargoyle. Looking about, Harry suddenly realized where he was. He was standing outside Dumbledore's office. It was here, mere hours ago, that he realized he was doomed to die and that he had carried a part of Voldemort's soul inside of him for 16 years. With a start, he realized he had been walking back along the path he had taken to the forest from the Headmaster's Office. He was searching for answers again, and it had brought him back to this hallway, as it always had.

The realization of the past few years caught up with Harry. The deaths of Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore all came back to him, piling up on the recent wounds of the victims of the past year. It was all too much for Harry to handle. He slumped against the wall, falling to the ground as the weight of his actions and grief bore down on him. He had brought the battle to Hogwarts, brought pain to safe places. He stared at the floor beyond his feet, but his eyes saw nothing. His mind was filled with haunting memory of the victims and the unspoken accusations of the living. He felt that those that he had protected would be grateful, but he couldn't see how they could ever forgive him. His actions had cost many their lives and those that had not died were harmed in some way. No one had escaped the war unscathed. While what he had done was the right thing to do, the cost had been too high. Too much blood had been paid for the victory.

Nothing seemed to matter any more. He had accomplished the task that destiny had laid before him. What else was there to do? He had been marked for a labor and had completed it. His journey was over. He had survived once more, but he was also alone again. He was too old to return to Hogwarts, the first home he had ever had. He couldn't return to the Burrow, not after the grief he had caused to the Weasley family. Grimmauld Place was a just lonely, dark hole to hide in away from everyone else, if it was even still standing after the Death Eaters had been able to gain access. And even if he had even wanted to go back to Privet Drive, he knew that the Dursleys would never welcome him. He was now a man, but a man without a home or a family.

Harry was so absorbed in the horror and sorrow of his mind that he failed to realize someone had joined him. It wasn't until Harry felt a small hand gently take his that he realized he was not alone. Slowly, Harry's eyes refocused on his surroundings. Beside him knelt the only person in the world that Harry wanted to see.

"Gin...Ginny," Harry's voice cracked as he looked at her.

She nodded slowly, her eyes roaming his face. Her long red hair was still loose, and her brown eyes were bloodshot, probably from crying. Her face was drawn and pale. She didn't look like she had slept well. Despite all this, the look she was giving Harry was of concern for him. She slowly sat down next to him, still holding his hand.

They sat there quietly for a minute, just holding hands. Ginny finally spoke in a quiet voice "When you left the Great Hall, we were all worried. Everyone is looking for you."

Harry stared at the floor. "I wasn't hungry," he said just as quietly.

Ginny reached over with her other hand and gently took Harry by the chin. She turned his face up so that their eyes met. Her face had a fierce quality, but she smirked at him. "Harry Potter, don't you dare lie to me," she said firmly. "You may be the Chosen One, but I will hex you three ways from Wednesday." Her eyes softened somewhat as Harry felt ashamed. She spoke again "Now, tell me what is keeping the hero of the wizarding world from enjoying some toast with his friends?"

Harry looked into the face of the girl he had missed so much over the past year. He didn't say anything for a bit, instead collecting his thoughts. Ginny didn't interrupt or try to rush him. She just waited for Harry to speak. Finally, he said in a low voice "My actions have caused so much damage, so many deaths. I know what I did was right, but did I do it the right way? Could I have done things differently and saved people? How can you or your family or anyone forgive me for what I had to do? All of this..." he gestured, indicating the castle and all that had happened yesterday and all the days before. "All of this is because of me."

Ginny's grip on Harry's hand tightened. "Oh, Harry," she sighed "This is so like you. Are you seriously saying that it's your fault that everyone fought? No one was fighting for you. We fought because we chose to. People fought and died to protect others from Voldemort and his kind. By blaming yourself for their deaths, you are taking the meaning of their sacrifice away!"

Ginny blinked rapidly, staring into Harry's eyes. "They were fighting to create a better world. They chose to be here and to fight. We all did. Everyone who fought knew what they were doing because we've known this was coming for a long time. Do you think that Fred..." at the mention of her brother's name, Ginny's voice cracked and her eyes began to water. "Fred didn't die for you. He was fighting for peace and for laughter."

Harry looked away. He shook his head, and started to protest. She smacked him in the arm, hard. She growled fiercely "Don't you dare take this all onto yourself Harry. You sent no one to their death. Let them stand for themselves!"

Harry winced sharply as her hand slapped him again, right over his heart, where the killing spell from Voldemort had hit him. She must have hit him hard for it to hurt that much. Harry looked up at her, and saw that her eyes were filled with tears. He reached out for her, but she pushed his hand away. "Damn you Harry Potter! I am done with crying over you!" She slapped at him again, but his seeker reflexes were ready this time. He caught her hand, stopping it before she could strike him again. With that, she finally began to cry, collapsing forward onto Harry. He held her close, feeling her tears soak his shirt. He could barely hear her as she mumbled into his chest. "Oh Harry," she sobbed "How could you let me think you had died?"

Harry didn't say anything. He just held her, running his fingers through her hair. His chest stung where she had hit him. After a moment, she leaned back, her arms still against his chest. She gave a long sniff, and Harry couldn't help but smile at her. She looked so funny with her red eyes and nose clashing with her hair wonderfully. She slowly grinned back at him. "What's so funny Potter? Never seen a girl cry before?"

Harry shook his head "I didn't know you had it in you. I thought you were one of those tough girls, one who would never let a boy get to her."

Ginny smiled back, rubbing her sleeve against her nose. "I was until you came along. I suppose I had better get rid of you." She stood up, rubbing her hands through his messy black hair. She offered her hands to Harry to help him get up. "Come along. Let's get some breakfast into you. We can't have The Boy Who Lived dying of hunger the day after he saved the world."

* * *

Ron and Hermione found Harry where they had last seen him, back in the Great Hall. He was sitting at the Gryffindor table beside Ginny, munching on a piece of toast. Hermione rushed up to them, out of breath. "Where were you Harry? We've been looking all over for you! We were worried."

Harry concentrated on buttering his toast. "I just needed to take a walk. I wasn't ready for breakfast."

Hermione raised her eyebrow at him as Ron sat down across from them. As Ron reached for a stack of toast, Hermione instead turned to question Ginny. "You found him? How? Where was he?"

Ginny glanced sideways at Harry, who was still focused on his breakfast. "Of course I found him. He was just walking around the halls. I found him up by Snape's - , I mean, McGonagall's office."

Ron looked at Hermione. "We should have known. Harry always goes to Dumbledore's office after the big stuff."

Harry rolled his eyes. Between bites of toast, he asked "Oh? Is McGonagall Headmistress now? Good for her."

Ron began to much on his breakfast. "Of course she is. Who else would it be? They announced it last night after you had gone to bed. Kinglsey's been made temporary Minister as well."

"Harry! There you are!" Mrs. Weasley's voice carried over their discussion as she and Mr. Weasley strode down the table towards them. Harry stood up to meet them.

"Mrs. Weasley," he said, intercepting them. "I know I said it yesterday, but I wanted to again. I'm so, so sorry about Fred. I -" Harry was cut off as Mrs. Weasley pulled him into one of her huge motherly hugs. Harry could hear her sniffling as she held him close.

"I know, dear," she said into his shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you for everything. You're such a sweetheart."

Mr. Weasley looked Harry in the eye over his wife's head. "Harry, we want you to know that we don't blame you. It's not your fault. We all choose to be here, we all took the risks." He shook his head sadly.

Mrs. Weasley released Harry with a final squeeze. His ribs were aching from where she had held him. She reached into her robe and drew out a lace hanky and dabbed at her eyes. Mr. Weasley placed a comforting arm around his wife, and gently led her to her seat.

Harry sat back down, turning to Ron and Hermione. "Why does everyone think that I will be blaming myself for yesterday?" he said accusingly, though slightly abashed. He knew that their concern was well placed after his talk with Ginny.

"Well..." Hermione shared the same sheepish look with Ron that she had that morning. "We may have talked about it last night," she said in a rush. "We were worried that you would take it too hard and then run off. So Ron and I decided to stay up and wait for you in the Common Room just in case you decided to do anything stupid in the middle of the night. When we couldn't find you after coming in for breakfast, we were worried that you had gone and done it after all." She glanced back at Ron, looking for encouragement. "Harry, you do have a tendency to do those sorts of things."

"Really, mate. You do have a daft sense of nobility," Ron said, nodding his head.

Harry glanced at his two friends and then back to Ginny. She was very focused on drinking juice. It seemed she wanted to keep their discussion between themselves. Harry was grateful for that kindness. He sighed. "Yes, I suppose I do."

"Wait a minute," Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "Ron, Hermione, what were you two doing in the Common Room by yourselves all night? I thought you were in your beds!" She looked very sternly at the two of them, but over her shoulder Harry caught a boyish gleam in Mr. Weasley's eyes.

Ron and Hermione were spared the awkward problem of answering such a question. Ginny suddenly pointed at Harry's chest. "Harry? Are you bleeding?" she asked, looking concerned.

Harry glanced down. Sure enough, blood was soaking through the front of his shirt. It seemed to be coming from the top of his chest. Harry hadn't thought about it before she mentioned it, but now that she had, he could feel a dull throbbing. It had been throbbing since Ginny had hit him. "It's probably just a cut. I'll be alright," Harry said, trying to brush it off.

"Here Harry, dear, let me take a look at it," Mrs. Weasley said, leaning across the table towards Harry.

"Molly, I think he needs to let Poppy examine him," Mr. Weasley said to his wife. He turned to Harry "I know you didn't want a fuss yesterday, but we need to get you checked out. Hospital Wing." He stood, and motioned for everyone else as well. "Come on Harry. Let's get you taken care of."

* * *

By the time they had reached the Hospital Wing, the cut in Harry's chest had risen to an aching, burning feeling. Hermione had conjured some sort of white, gauze-like cloth and told Harry to apply pressure to his chest, despite his assurances that he was fine. Between her insistence and that of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, Harry was made sure to do as they asked. Mr. Weasley chuckled as all three women kept an eye on him while they walked to the ward, apparently amused at Harry's predicament.

Madam Pomfrey was checking out some of the injured survivors as they arrived. When she saw who it was that needed her help, she swept over in a hurry. "Mr. Potter. I should have know that I would be seeing you. Doesn't hardly seem like a proper school year without you showing up in my ward" she said with a warm smile. "Let's see what's going on, shall we?"

She led Harry and the others over to one of the few empty beds. Many beds were filled with sleeping patients, but some held people sitting up, quietly visiting with friends or family. "Most of the more critically wounded have been taken to St. Mungo's now," she said in response to their questioning eyes. "Just a couple of students with broken bones and the like. Now, Mr. Potter, please remove your shirt."

Harry quickly glanced around. The others weren't leaving, apparently. Desperately avoiding meeting Ginny's eyes, Harry did as he was told. The blood had dried slightly, so he winced as he peeled the fabric free from his skin. Once again, his muscles protested as he hoisted his shirt above his head and set it on the bed beside him.

Madam Pomfrey examined his chest "That is quite the collection, Mr. Potter. I'm not sure if I have ever seen you in so many colors," she said, giving another warm smile. While she didn't always have much patience with visitors in her ward, she did have an excellent bedside manner.

Harry risked a look up, and he saw Ginny's eyes widen as she took in just how battered his body was. The bruise that had been just forming this morning had developed, erupting into violent shades of blue, orange, and black. It spread across his chest and down his stomach, centered over his heart. Another large bruise, this time wrapping around his side and moving onto his back was probably caused from him falling out of Hagrid's arms and hitting the ground, or perhaps from when Voldemort was celebrating by tossing Harry up into the air. Harry also saw more bruising and cuts covering his arms where he had gripped against the dragon as they escaped from Gringotts. He imagined that his legs sported some as well, for similar reasons.

"Merlin, Harry" Ron said, slightly awed. "How have you been managing to walk around?"

Harry simply grunted as Madam Pomfrey gently guided his shoulders down onto the bed. She began muttering spells as her wand swept up and down Harry's torso, checking for any internal injuries. Harry looked back over and saw that Ginny had gone slightly white. She was gripping her mothers hand. They both looked at him in shock.

"What?" Harry said, finally looking Ginny in the eye. "Disappointed I don't have a Horntail tattoo after all?" he joked, trying to break the tension.

"N-no-o" Ginny said, shakily. "Harry... When did you get that?" she asked, haltingly, and pointing to his chest.

Harry glanced down at his chest. Through the mess of bruises, he could see the shallow, scarred depression where Hermione had used a Severing Charm to remove the Horcrux locket after the attack at Godric's Hollow. Right beside it, above where his heart would be, was a long cut. It was slowly oozing blood.

Madam Pomfrey immediately syphoned away the blood. As she did so, her face grew white as well. "Oh my," she said, clutching herself. Everyone was staring at his chest.

Harry could see now what they all were looking at. The wound was as long as he had assumed, but it was jagged and somewhat deeper than he had first imagined. It was a cut that was a very familiar shape, that of a lightning bolt. Harry had been marked a second time by another Killing Curse.

"Oh," Harry said quietly. "I suppose I got it in the Forbidden Forest when I turned myself in to Voldemort." Harry was staring at the remains of the curse along with the others. "He, uh, well, he fired another Killing Curse at me. Guess this one didn't stick either," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Mr. Weasley looked astounded. "Another Killing Curse? Harry, I - " but he was cut off as Ginny flung herself onto Harry, her fiery hair whipping him in the face as she landed on his chest. She was holding Harry so tightly that he thought she would surely break his bones. He felt like she was trying to hold so tight that she would never let him go.

This action brought Madam Pomfrey back to reality. "Ms. Weasley!" she said in her typically annoyed tone. "Please remove yourself from Mr. Potter! I need to see about attending to his wounds."

Slowly, Ginny sat back up, and crawled back off the bed. Her own shirt now had a bit of blood on it where it had rested again Harry's cut. Her mother looked at Ginny sternly, disapproving. Whether this was because of the embrace or because Ginny had gotten in the way of Madam Pomfrey, Harry wasn't sure.

Madam Pomfrey quickly had everyone escorted out and drew the privacy curtains around Harry's bed. As she administered to Harry, he couldn't help but overhear the conversation going on outside of the curtains.

"Ginevra! What was that all about?" Mrs. Weasley said sharply.

"Mum, I'm sorry." Ginny said, not really sounding particularly sorry.

Mrs. Weasley apparently did not believe it either. "You ought to be apologizing to Harry and to Madam Pomfrey. You were getting in the way, and probably hurting Harry! That was not appropriate behavior!"

Harry could see Ginny's shadow through the curtain as she placed her hands on her hips. "I know, Mum," she huffed. Harry saw her head drop slightly as Ginny evidently looked at the floor. Her voice softened as she continued.. "I was just...worried when I saw his chest. I had hit Harry earlier in the chest, and when I saw what had happened, and then knowing that I had hit him, I..." Harry thought he recognized the tone. It was the tone Ginny used when she was not being completely honest.

A shadow that could only have been Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and hugged her daughter. "I understand, dear," she said. "Just... try to be more careful from now on, alright?"

Ron spoke up. "You hit Harry? What'd you do that for?"

Ginny sighed as her mother stepped back. "He was being a prat. He was doing like you and Hermione said, taking the blame of everything on himself. I thought he deserved it... or at least I did at the time..." her voice trailed off again.

Madam Pomfrey looked at Harry, who was rather embarrassed by this ordeal. Thankfully, she seemed to understand his predicament. She stuck her head out of the curtains and ordered them all out of her ward, saying "This is no time for visitors! I will send for you when it is." The Weasleys and Hermione reluctantly left, mentioning that they needed to see the others and let them know that that Harry was found.

Harry watched as she returned and tried to administer to his pains. She gave him several potions and then began to magic away his pains. "If this is a curse scar, Mr. Potter, I may not be able to do much with it," she said in a professional tone. "It looks like this gave you several bruised ribs as well. I advise taking it easy the next couple of weeks and give it a chance to heal naturally. Healing magic is not normally effective against such dark curses. Not that we have anything to reference in this case, unless you remember the treatment for..." she trailed off, her eyes performing the familiar flick to his forehead, giving the scar a meaningful look.

As Harry had been all of one year old at the time he received that one, he didn't know what they had done to treat it. "I don't. I was placed with my aunt and uncle then, so I suppose they just used muggle means to heal it," he said.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, and continued to treat his remaining injuries. As Harry had suspected, his pains did extend past his torso. He had to remove his jeans as well, while Madam Pomfrey politely turned her back. Harry took the moment to really examine himself. Beyond his minor cuts and bruises, he was covered in scars. Besides the two Killing Curse scars and the scar from removing the locket, he had numerous other marks. His hand still bore the words "I must not tell lies" in his own handwriting. Umbridge had forced him to write that over and over in his own blood as he stood against the lies of the Ministry. Further up his arm was the puncture marks from Nagini's fangs. He was bitten by the snake while trying to escape in Godric's Hollow. On his other arm was the scar from the knife cut where Peter Pettigrew had taken blood from Harry as part of the ritual to bring back Voldemort in Harry's fourth year. His lifelong fight had left him marked.

He sat back down, and let Madam Pomfrey return to his care. She was healing bruises on the inside of his thigh when they were interrupted. Professor McGonagall came storming in through the curtained partition unannounced. Harry jumped, reaching for his wand before he saw who it was. When he recognized the teacher, he instead grabbed the sheets off the bed and quickly pulled them up over himself.

"Minerva!" Madam Pomfrey said with a shout. "Why, you scared me half to death! What on earth are you doing? What's wrong?"

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry in shock. "Someone told me that Potter was in the Hospital Wing, and I feared the worst." She looked slightly shaken, and reached out a hand to the end of the bed to steady herself.

"I'm alright Professor, really I am," Harry said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, only his head sticking out above the bed sheets.

"Just some cuts and bruises, and a couple of bruised ribs" Madam Pomfrey supplied. "And a... a curse scar. He'll be alright once that heals up."

"A curse scar? Surely, you don't mean...?" McGonagall asked, looking quickly between the healer and Harry..

Reluctantly, Harry lowered the sheets. The lightning bolt scar across his chest was still clearly visible. Madam Pomfrey had not yet decided on the best method of treatment. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath from the professor.

"Oh, Potter." McGonagall said, raising her hand to her mouth. "I..."

Harry then saw something he had never thought he would see again after the fight in the Ravenclaw common room. Professor McGonagall was at a loss for words.

After taking a moment to collect herself, she turned to Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, I assume that you can get Mr. Potter back on his feet soon?" After getting her assurance, McGonagall turned back to Harry, who quickly pulled the sheets back up. "Potter... Harry. Kingsley and I would like to speak with you, Ron, and Hermione later. I believe that we have much to discuss."

Harry nodded. He had known it was coming sooner or later. He would have to tell people what had happened because they deserved to know what they had fought for. But, perhaps if he could get everyone together, he wouldn't have to tell it so many times.

"I had assumed so, Professor. Do you think we could have some others there as well? Like the rest of the Weasleys, Neville, and Hagrid? I don't want to have to tell this story more than necessary."

McGonagall nodded. "Very well. If that is what you think is best, Harry, then I am sure we can make it happen," she nodded. "Shall we say this afternoon, in my office?"

"That sounds perfect," Harry said. As McGonagall turned to leave, he called out, somewhat embarrassedly "Oh, Professor? Um, congratulations on being made Headmistress. I can't think of anyone better."

McGonagall paused, and then thanked Harry. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw his strict, old teacher blush.


	3. The Mysterious Ways of Witches

Madam Pomfrey refused to let Harry leave for several hours. She insisted that he stay lying down while she investigated ways to heal the wound on his chest. All the other nicks and cuts she had quickly magicked away. As she left to go consult some textbooks, Harry let his mind wander. He tried not to think along the same lines that he had that morning, instead wondering what his future would hold. With a start, he realized that he had forgotten to speak with someone after the battle.

"Kreacher," Harry called softly.

With a crack, the house elf appeared at his bedside. He wore a clean tea-towel, and the Black locket lay against his chest. Bowing deeply, Kreacher said "Master called. What can old Kreacher do for Master?" His old eyes took in Harry's bedridden state. "Does Master need Kreacher to heal him?"

"No, Kreacher, Madam Pomfrey is taking care of me." Harry looked down at the old, bat-eared elf. He was suddenly reminded of Kreacher leading all the house-elves of Hogwarts into battle. Harry found himself breaking into a grin. "Kreacher, I wanted to thank you. Thank you for all the care you gave us last fall, and thank you for fighting for us yesterday."

Kreacher looked up at Harry, his bulbous eyes wide. "Master is thanking Kreacher? Kreacher only did what a good house-elf would do. Kreacher is just obeying his Master."

Harry shook his head. "That may be the case Kreacher, but I still wanted to thank you. I am also sorry about leaving you alone so suddenly back in September. We were found out and had to flee. How did you manage?"

Kreacher held up his hands. "Master doesn't have to answer to Kreacher. When the bad wizards came into the house, Kreacher hid. After they left, Kreacher used his magic to seal it up so no more damage could be done. Kreacher apologizes for not fighting them off, but they were wizards and powerful, and Kreacher is just a house-elf."

Harry was amazed at the magic of house-elves yet again. "Kreacher, that's brilliant! I didn't know you could protect the house like that. And, no, I certainly didn't expect you to fight them." Harry hoped that the house-elf hadn't punished himself for that. "Then what did you do?"

"Kreacher then came to Hogwarts. He knew Master Harry would be returning and Kreacher wanted to help." The house-elf bowed deeply again.

"Thank you Kreacher, that was very brave of you." Harry paused, thinking. "Kreacher, can you go back home and make sure it's safe? I'd like to return tonight if it is."

"Of course, Master." Kreature raised his hand, preparing to Disapparate away.

"Wait!" Harry said suddenly. "I wanted to tell you that we did find and destroy the locket. Ron smashed it with a sword. We finished what Regulus had started."

Kreacher's eyes filled with tears at the mention of his favorite master and the completion of the task that had plagued his life for so many years. Kreacher's bullfrog voice quivered as he spoke, big fat tears dripping down around his bulbous nose. "Thank you, Master Harry. Master Regulus would be very happy." He gave a sniff, "Kreacher is very happy. He will prepare a special dinner for Master Weasley next time he comes by the house." Harry nodded, giving his approval.

"If there is nothing else, Kreacher will go and prepare the house for Master's arrival." When Harry nodded again, Kreacher raised his arm again and snapped his fingers. With another crack, he was gone.

* * *

Harry was sitting up in bed by the time Madam Pomfrey allowed the Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny back in to see him. He had a quill and parchment out in front of him, taking notes when they all crowded around his bed. He hastily rolled up the parchment and tossed it and the quill onto the bedside table. He smiled at his friends, trying to show them that he was alright.

As Harry suspected, Mrs. Weasley immediately came over and began to fuss over him. She pulled back the bedsheets to look at his chest. "Oh Harry, why can't you stay healthy?" she asked with a sigh. "It seems you are always getting into these sorts of scrapes." She looked down at the bandages that wrapped around Harry's chest.

Madam Pomfrey hadn't found any sort of magical cure to his wound, as she had suspected. With no other good solution, she had simply bandaged his wound, and then wrapped his ribs up to prevent Harry from further damaging them. She had given him some potions to help with the pain and stiffness, but she could not magically mend them either. Harry would need several weeks of rest before he would be back to his old self again, according to the healer.

Harry looked beyond Mrs. Weasley's concerned face to Ginny. She stood at the edge of the curtain, biting her lip as she examined his bandages. She slowly looked up and their eyes met. Not for the first time, Harry's breath caught as he saw just how beautiful her warm, brown eyes were. However, never before did he have five bruised and painful ribs. He began coughing as the pain constricted across his chest.

Once he had gotten his breathing back under control, he looked up. Ginny was standing beside his bed, her hand twisting the sheets. He caught her eye as she was biting her lip again. Softly, as if he might start coughing again, she said "Harry, I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't know about... that" she said, looking down at his chest. "When I saw it, it reminded me of how you looked in Hagrid's arms and..." she trailed off quietly

Harry interrupted her before she could say anything else. "It's alright Ginny. I didn't know either. According to Madam Pomfrey, I was just in too much shock and too tired to really feel anything until you hit me." He grinned up at her. "I think I probably did deserve it too. Just try to be a little more gentle if I need another one."

Ginny's face slowly broke back into a smile as well. Harry thought she looked relieved. "Ok. You've got yourself a deal, Potter." She coughed briefly, then said "Next time you need a smack, just let me know." She batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. They grinned at each other.

"Uh... Harry?" Hermione said nervously. Harry and Ginny suddenly remembered that they weren't alone. Ron stood next to her, looking uneasy. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing back by the curtain, hand in hand. They were sharing a look with one another that Harry couldn't interpret.

Hermione looked around, trying to change the subject. Spying the parchment on the bedside table, she reached out for it. "Harry, what were you working on when we came in?" she asked as she began to unroll the paper.

"Oh, that?" Harry said, grateful for the distraction. "I was just taking some notes, trying to collect my thoughts."

Ron turned to him, slightly astounded. "Since when have you taken notes? Is Madam Pomfrey sure your head wasn't damaged?"

Harry smirked. "No, I'm fine. Just too many thoughts running through my head, and I needed to get them sorted. People always say to write it down, so I thought I would try it." He gestured to the hospital bed. "It wasn't like I was really going anywhere." Maybe McGonagall would let Harry borrow the Pensieve. Dumbledore had mentioned how useful it was to sort through memories. "Has Professor McGonagall talked with you all yet?" he looked around at everyone.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "She said that you wanted to talk with all of us after lunch. Speaking of which..." he trailed off, looking at his wife.

Mrs. Weasley got the hint. "Oh, all right. Harry does seem to be fine. I suppose we should get something to eat. Harry, here's some fresh clothes for when Madam Pomfrey lets you go." She reached in her bag and drew out some of his old clothes. "We will see you all later." She and Mr. Weasley walked out past the curtains, leaving the teenagers alone.

Once they had gotten out of earshot, Hermione drew her wand and cast the Muffliato charm, ensuring their privacy. As she did so, she shot a look of disgust down at the wand. She was still using Bellatrix's wand. "I hate this awful thing," she said as she slid it back into her robes. She looked towards Ron "Before we go to Australia, we need to get new wands. I doubt the Malfoys would be willing to give us our old ones back, if they haven't already broken them."

Ron nodded sadly in agreement. "Shame too. I really liked that willow wand. This was Pettigrew's," he said, equally as disgusted. He pulled the wand out of his robes and eyed it critically.

Harry readjusted himself on the bed so Ginny would have room to sit down on the edge, down by his feet. "So when are you going to leave?" he asked, looking up at Hermione.

She glanced at Ron. "Probably sometime next week. We'll need to go and buy some things, and then have to make arrangements with the ministry, and then there's the funerals..." she trailed off quietly. Ron quickly stepped over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Right." Harry said tersely, not wanting to think about funerals right now. "So is it just going to be you two going?"

Hermione looked at Harry and then at Ron. "Well, I hadn't thought about that yet. I mean, last year, it was always just the three of us."

Harry interrupted "Hermione, I can't be doing a lot of traveling right now anyways. Madam Pomfrey said that it will take weeks before I can do anything really strenuous." He looked down at his bandaged chest. "I don't even want to imagine how Apparating like this would feel. I think you two will just have to go without me."

Hermione looked a little sad, but over her shoulder, Ron gave Harry a look of gratitude. Harry was not the only one who saw it apparently. Ginny spoke up "What's that face about Ron? You excited for a nice, long vacation away from Mom and Dad with your new girlfriend?"

Hermione spun around, catching Ron's face as it turned bright red. Then, Ron broke out in a grin. "Yeah, I suppose I am," he said happily. He reached down, taking her hand. He smiled at her as she blushed slightly.

Suddenly, she tore her hand out of his grasp. "Ronald Weasley! Is that the way you are going to ask me out? By using your sister?" she scolded him, drawing back from him and crossing her arms. "If you really want us to be together, you had better try again!"

Ron looked at Hermione in surprise. She stood still, arms crossed, staring him down with a mischievous smirk on her face. Ron looked to Harry for help, who just shrugged at him. Ginny, who was a collapsed fit of giggles on the end of the bed, was no help either. Ron turned back to Hermione dumbfounded.

Hermione made a noise like a disgruntled cat. Turning her nose up in the air, she turned to Ginny. "Come on, Ginny," she said impassively. "Let's leave the boys here and go get some lunch." She put an emphasis on boys, as if to tell Ron exactly how she thought he was acting.

Ginny got up off the bed and turned to face Ron and Harry. Her face quickly mimicked her friend's, mischievous grin and all. The girls linked their arms together, turned up their noses, and walked out of the privacy curtains. Harry could hear them break into giggles on the other side of the curtain as they walked off towards the Great Hall.

Ron turned to Harry. "What was that all about?" he asked, befuddled.

Harry shared a look with Ron. "Donno mate. She's your girlfriend, or whatever now. I'm not some kind of expert on witches, just Horcruxes." He tried to shrug his shoulders, confused at the world of women, but the bandages prevented anything more than a small tug. Neither of them said anything for a bit. Then Harry spoke up. "Didn't you two talk about that stuff yet? I figured you had last night when I saw you two together this morning."

Ron was shaking his head as he sat down where Ginny had been moments before. "No. We had both gone to bed, but neither of us could sleep. She came up to the dorm and got me. We went back down to the common room. Neither of us said much for a while. We talked about you for a bit, you know, like Hermione said this morning. Then we started talking about Lupin and Tonks, and Fred. She was crying pretty bad, so I just sort of held her, you know?" Ron's eyes unfocused as he relived the memory. "I didn't really know what to do. Then all of a sudden she was kissing me. I mean, like really kissing me." Ron had a stupid sort of grin on his face now. "This wasn't anything like when I was with Lavender. It was completely different. I could tell she really meant it, you know?"

Harry remembered the kiss that Ginny had given him on his birthday last year. That kiss had been the most passionate moment he had ever experienced. "I think I do," he said, half-lost in his own memories.

Ron wasn't really listening to Harry. "Well, we snogged like that for a while, and then we both just fell asleep. We didn't really talk about us at all." Ron was shaking his head again. "I just figured that we were together after that. Girls are weird."

Harry laughed. "I know what you mean," he said, thinking of how Ginny had gone from holding his hand, to hitting him, and then to crying against him in a matter of moments. "They don't make much sense," he said, shaking his head too. They were silent again, until Harry said "So what are you going to do? You do want to be with her still, right?" he asked.

Ron looked indignant. "Of course I do! I've known that for a while now. I just didn't have the courage to do anything before now. I still might not. She's the one who started the kissing both times, not that I'm complaining, mind you." Ron flopped back on the bed, looking hopeless.

Harry laughed at his friend. "Only you and Hermione could have finally kissed, right at the end of it all, and then not been able to figure it out afterwards." Ron looked embarrassed for a moment, and then he started laughing too. The laughing hurt his ribs badly, but Harry didn't mind. It was good to have something normal to laugh at again. After a bit, they both settled down.

Harry adjusted himself in the bed again. Ron was taking up more room than Ginny had, and his legs were cramped. "You know, I figure she wants you to make the first move now," he said, seriously. "She kissed you both times, so she probably thinks that you need to do something now. And after all that fuss, you better make it good."

Ron nodded, agreeing. "You... you don't think she'd leave me if I didn't, do you?" he asked, slightly nervous.

"Nah, I think she is just teasing you. But, I think you'd better do a proper job of it anyways. You don't want her mad at you already." Harry tried to shrug again, but just ended up tugging on his bandages again. He winced, and continued "Just give it your best shot, you can't go wrong with that."

Ron sighed and looked up at the ceiling. After a minute, he turned back to Harry. "What about you and Ginny? Are you going to try and get back with her? I know you broke up before, but everything is different now, isn't it?"

Harry looked at Ron. He expected him to be angry, or at least upset about it. Instead Ron looked concerned for his friend. With a sigh, Harry answered. "I don't know. When I broke it off, I was doing it to protect her. Being 'Harry Potter's Girlfriend' was not going to be safe, and I didn't want her to get hurt because of me." Harry looked away, back down to his hand before continuing. "I think I was also afraid that I wouldn't be coming back. I didn't want her to have to deal with that." Now it was Harry's turn to lay back and stare at the ceiling. "I want to get back with her," he said, still not looking at Ron. "I'm not sure if she wants to get back with me though. She's had a year to move on..." Harry trailed off, suddenly worried.

Ron spoke up. "Ginny's been crazy about you ever since that day at King's Cross years ago. Longer, I suppose, if you count all the stories that people used to tell about you. It didn't really help when you saved her from the Chamber of Secrets either. I think she's got it bad for you, and I doubt that's changed much since last year," he finished.

Harry sighed. "You think that she only liked me because I'm famous? I didn't think Ginny was like that."

Ron interjected. "She's not; you know that. I'm just saying that any girl would fall for the guy that had done those things. I think she really fancies you. Not the famous Harry Potter. Just Harry, from Gryffindor, who was her Quidditch captain and her brother's best mate."

Harry looked at his best friend. "You're really ok with it though?" he asked, hesitantly.

Ron sighed. "While I don't really like the idea of my sister being with any bloke, she did pick about the best one I know. She could do a lot worse than The Boy-Who-Lived, I suppose." Ron grinned as Harry groaned at the nickname. "But, really mate. I've done some thinking on it, and I don't know why I shouldn't be happy that my best friend and my sister are dating. As long as I don't catch you snogging again." Ron mimed throwing up all over the bed. "I know I don't have to tell you this, but I'm her big brother. Don't mess her about."

Harry held out his hand. "I promise I won't." The two friends shook on it, and then settled back down. After a moment, Ron started talking about Quidditch, wondering who had won the house cup this year.

Madam Pomfrey found them a quarter of an hour later, in the middle of a heated discussion about the Chudley Cannons' chances for not bottoming out the rankings.. The boys were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice her come in. "Well Mr. Potter, if you and Mr. Weasley could stop arguing about whether or not Galvin Gudgeon is blinder than a niffler, then we can see about getting you discharged."

It took the healer several minutes to approve of Harry's state. With several warnings about making sure not to overexert himself and to take it easy, Madam Pomfrey finally let Harry get dressed. Ron had to help him, because Harry found it more difficult than he anticipated with his chest wrapped tightly. He would have to change the dressing on it several times a day.

Harry and Ron slowly made their way back to the Great Hall. When they reached the wooden double doors, Ron turned to Harry and said "If you don't want to go back in there, I can grab us some food and we could eat out here."

Harry shook his head. "No, let's go in. You think I would have gotten used to the looks by now, though. It's been seven years!"

However, Harry didn't have to worry. He and Ron were among the last to come to lunch; most everyone else had already eaten and left. The Weasley family was still there of course. Neville and Hermione sat beside them. As Harry gingerly made his way down the table, he saw that they were all eating and talking. Everyone except for George. He was sitting quietly, pushing some shepherd's pie around a plate.

Before Harry could even ease into the seat between Neville and Bill, Mrs. Weasley had already placed a full plate in front of him. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said, eagerly digging into the meal.

Ron shot him a jealous look as he sat down on the other side of Neville, across from Hermione. He began to help himself to the food spread around the table. Hermione rolled her eyes at him as he filled his plate. "Ronald, you just had breakfast."

Around a roll, Ron said "What? I'm hungry!"

As the two of them got into another argument, Harry, Neville, and Ginny started talking about what Dumbledore's Army had been up to over the past year. Harry was impressed to hear Neville and Ginny talk about the adventures they had while trying to disrupt Snape's regime. Harry just about snorted pumpkin juice out of his nose as Ginny imitated Electra Carrow falling down stairs that had been magically greased by Neville.

As he coughed and laughed, he could feel his chest burning. Harry sobered up quickly. Even now, after Voldemort was dead and gone, Harry was still suffering while trying to enjoy the company of his friends. He had lived with the hidden pain for so long that it was as familiar feeling to him as flying. He had never thought that he would have continued to be tormented by it after the last fight, though.

Harry found himself remembering the peacefulness of the white, misty King's Cross. If he had stayed, he would have never had to worry again. Here, in the living world, he had to deal with the pain of the war. His body would never be the same, and his friends wouldn't either. The peace of that place eluded him. He knew that he had to come back for everyone that he loved. He would never regret that, but he missed the brief moments of peace. He took another drink, slowly and carefully. Ginny was looking at him over his glass. She had apparently sensed his change in his mood. She slowly raised an eyebrow, questioningly. Harry avoided her eyes.

Just then, Mr. Weasley announced "It's almost time to go meet McGonagall. Let's get finished eating and head up."

"I'm so slow at stairs right now that I better start up there now. I'll see you all there," he said, cautiously getting to his feet. Ron, who was in the middle of a second helping of ice cream looked sad as he set down his spoon.

"I'll come with you, Harry," Ron said.

Ginny stood up before Ron could. "Finish your ice cream, Ron. I'm done eating. I'll go with Harry." She started down the table.

Ron shrugged and picked up his spoon again. Ginny turned and smiled at Harry as they walked towards the door, the table between them. They exited the Hall, and turned up the stairs, Harry moving slowly, taking it one step at at time.

"Does it hurt that bad?" Ginny asked as she walked beside him. Her arms were held behind her back. Harry was grateful, he wanted to manage the stairs by himself.

"No" he grunted. "The bandage is just wrapped tightly. When I complained, Madam Pomfrey said it was supposed to be that tight to prevent me from doing any more damage to myself." He chuckled. "I think she is going to miss me. I've been in her ward every year, even if it was just to visit someone."

Ginny grinned at him. "Remember when McLaggen put you in there with that bludger and made us lose the match? I planned hexes against him for weeks afterwards. I just couldn't figure out how to do it without everyone knowing it was me."

"Did all of your plans involve you using the Bat-Bogey Hex?" Harry asked as they turned to walk down a corridor. Ginny nodded. "That's your problem; you have a signature spell," he jested. "Weasley, they can always tell who you are when you use a signature spell..." Harry trailed off as he thought about how using the Disarming Spell the night of flight from Privet Drive had identified him.

Ginny was quiet for a moment waiting for Harry to speak. He looked at her, and he knew that she was worried again. They reached the bottom of another flight of stairs. Before they could start up them, Ginny gently laid her hand on Harry's arm. He turned to face her. She held her hand against his arm and climbed up a couple of the stairs so she could stand eye to eye with him. She slid her hand down his arm until she interlocked her fingers with his. She looked down at their hands and smiled.

Looking back into his eyes, Ginny said "Harry, I'm glad your signature spell is Expelliarmus. It's the spell of a kind man." She looked like she was leaning forward slightly, perhaps expectantly. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest, but he didn't do anything. His head was swimming and he couldn't think straight. After a moment, Ginny squeezed his hand and Harry squeezed back. She smiled warmly at him and said "Come on, we're almost there."

She let go of his hand, and allowed Harry to catch up with her on the stairs. Her hands returned back behind her back, but there was a slight sway in her walk now. Harry watched her out of the corner of his eye, watching her gently sashay up the stairs. He felt what must of been a very stupid looking grin spread across his face.


	4. Tale of Heroes

Harry sat in his customary chair in what used to be Dumbledore's office. Ginny sat next to him and Ron and Hermione sat on the other side. Kingsley, McGonagall, Hagrid, Neville, and the rest of the Weasleys were crowded into the office. He had wondered about Percy, Charlie, and Fleur coming to the meeting, but he decided that they were family to the others and they deserved to hear the tale as well. Everyone had greeted one another, and now they were sitting looking up at Harry quietly, waiting for him to speak.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. He had asked them to help fill in anything he forgot. Hermione looked a little nervous, but she and Ron both nodded to Harry. They were ready. Harry turned back to everyone else. "This is going to be something of a long story," he began. "I'm sure that you all will have questions. Dumbledore taught me that it's best to get it all out at once, and then to come back and ask questions later. This story also has a lot of secrets in it. I know I don't have to ask, but if we could try to keep this information to between those of us here, I think it will be safer." Harry paused as he looked at the people that cared for him, trusted him, and fought for him. He glanced up at Dumbledore's portrait. While it appeared to be sleeping, Harry knew better. "Dumbledore trusted all of you, and I do as well." Harry took a deep breath. He had been debating how to tell this story. Unlike the times he had talked with Dumbledore, this time he had been able to prepare before starting. Taking a deep breath, Harry began. "All of this starts in the town of Little Hangleton..."

Harry launched into the tale of Voldemort. He told them about Merope Gaunt crafting a love potion and seducing Tom Riddle, Sr. He brushed over Riddle's birth and admittance to Hogwarts. He picked up the story again as Riddle investigated into horcruxes with Professor Slughorn.

"So, Riddle was already trying to learn how to become immortal before he even left school. By killing someone, he could split his soul into pieces and store some of those pieces into different objects. That object is called a horcrux. Creating just one is bad enough, but Riddle wanted to create more. He wanted to split his soul into seven pieces" Harry said.

At this, nearly everyone in the room gasped. McGonagall clutched at her chest, and Kingsley started upwards in his seat. Everyone else was similarly affected. Harry waited a moment for everyone to collect themselves, and then continued.

He then told them about Riddle learning how to open the Chamber of Secrets and killing a student named Myrtle to create his first horcrux, a small diary. As he described it, Ginny's face went pale. Harry then told about how Riddle blamed Hagrid so he could stay at the school. Hagrid shifted uncomfortably while Harry told his part of the tale, but he stayed silent.

Harry moved on to the stories of the Gaunt ring and Slytherin's locket. Then he explained his guesses about Riddle finding the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw and acquiring the Hufflepuff's Cup and turning them into Horcruxes. At this point, he paused his story of Riddle, and instead started retelling the story of Severus Snape and his parents.

"Dumbledore was interviewing Trelawny at the Hog's Head when she gave an real prophecy. It described someone who was due to be born at the end of July, who's parents were in the Order and had escaped from Riddle three times. This child would have the power to be able to defeat the Dark Lord. It was at this point that Snape was caught eavesdropping against the door, so he didn't hear the rest of the prophecy. Snape fled to tell Riddle what he had heard." Harry looked at Neville, sitting beside the empty fireplace. "They assumed that the prophecy could mean one of two couples: my parents or the Longbottoms." Harry watched as Neville tried to process the news about what he could have become. Harry gave him a small smile. "But for some reason, Riddle thought that I would be the bigger threat. Dumbledore thought that it was because I wasn't a pureblood. Whatever the reasoning, Riddle decided that I was the one who could defeat him, so he made plans to attack and kill my parents. What he didn't know is that Snape had loved my mother for years. When Riddle threatened them, he lost the loyalty of Snape. He went to Dumbledore and begged for their protection. From that moment on, he was Dumbledore's man."

Harry moved on to telling about his parents putting their trust in Peter Pettigrew instead of Dumbledore or Sirius, and how that had cost them their lives. Harry then talked about Voldemort's attack on their cottage, and his mother's sacrifice that protected him from the Killing Curse.

"And so, the curse rebounded on Riddle, leaving me with this scar. He had unknowingly completed more of the prophecy. The prophecy stated that he would mark the one who could destroy him as an equal." Harry pointed up at his scar. "I think everyone knows what happened after that, at least up until my first year at Hogwarts."

He told about Quirrel and the hunt for the Philosopher's stone and how he, Ron, and Hermione had stopped he talked about the diary, and it reopening the Chamber of Secrets through Ginny and about stabbing it with the basilisk's fang. Harry looked at her as he told his part of the tale. Ginny didn't look scared or frightened. Instead, she looked defiant. Harry felt a surge of pride for her.

Harry then told about Pettigrew's escape. Proceeding he told about about Barty Crouch, Jr., impersonating Mad-Eye and rigging the Tri-Wizard's tournament. He talked about the return of Voldemort, and he showed them the scar on his arm where his blood was taken and how Voldemort gained some of the magic that Harry's mother had given him. He also talked about Priori Incantatem, and how his wand and Voldemort's shared a core.

Here, Harry paused. He had been talking for what felt like hours. Professor McGonagall got up and poured Harry a drink from a small pitcher located behind her desk. As he eased his throat with the cool water, Harry studied those listening. Most of the Weasleys looked completely amazed at the tale. He had thought that most of them had no idea about all these issues. They had simply fought to protect their world, not to destroy horcruxes. Hagrid looked shocked at what all Harry had done; Neville did too. Kingsley and McGonagall were just frowning. Harry wondered how much the two of them had heard from Dumbledore. Ron and Hermione were not phased; they had heard Harry talk about all of this before, but they continued to look supportive.

Setting his now empty glass down, Harry told of Voldemort's intrusions into his dreams to get him into the Department of Mysteries. As most of those present were in the Order or had been involved in the fight, Harry didn't give many details about it, except to say that the prophecy had been smashed.

"But, while the Prophecy was smashed, Dumbledore was the one who recorded and reported it. That night, he told me the whole prophecy." Harry looked down at his hands as he recited "Snape hadn't heard all of the prophecy. The prophecy went on to say that 'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live with the other survives.'" Again, a collective gasp filled the room. "This meant that the only one that could finish Voldemort once and for all was me. But the prophecy also referred to a power that I would have that Voldemort would never understand. That was the power of love. I had it from what my mother gave me, and from what you all gave me," he said, looking back up at everyone gathered in the room. They all looked back at him strongly, and Harry could feel the strength they gave him.

He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, and then continued. He told them about the lessons he had with Dumbledore the next year, and about hunting the Horcruxes. He told them about Dumbledore finding the Ring, and how it cursed him. Harry talked about the agreement between Snape and Dumbledore to prevent Draco Malfoy from having to commit murder and how Dumbledore's death was planned so that Snape could rise in the Death Eater's ranks. Harry then described getting the locket from the cave, and the return to the castle. He told them about Draco disarming Dumbledore, but not being able to bring himself to kill, and about Snape fulfilling his promise. Then he talked about opening the locket only to find that it was not the Horcrux.

"So that's where we were left at the start of the summer," Harry said, looking at Ron and Hermione. "Dumbledore expected us to find the remaining Horcruxes. He didn't know about the Diadem, but he did think that Nagini, Voldemort's snake, was a Horcrux. He trusted us to find and destroy them all, and then find a way to destroy Voldemort as well. So, after the attack on the wedding," Harry looked apologetically at Bill and Fleur, "we set out to find them. We went to Grimmauld place after that. While there, we discovered that the Horcrux locket had been stolen by Regulus, Sirius' brother. He and Kreacher had taken it years ago and replaced it."

Harry went on to talk in detail now, explaining what had happened over the past year. Ron and Hermione were adding things now. They talked about tracking the locket from Mundungus to Umbridge, and their stealth infiltration of the Ministry. When Mr. Weasley heard that it was Harry who had supposedly threatened him, he burst out laughing. Harry grinned and he could feel some of the tension in the room lower. The three of them proceeded to talk about trying to destroy the horcrux themselves, until giving up. They described their discover that Dumbledore had meant for them to use the Sword of Gryffindor to destroy the horcruxes.

Harry wasn't going to mention Ron leaving them, but to his surprise Ron brought it up himself. Harry paused to let him speak.

"We were taking turns to wear the locket, and it just kept getting to me," Ron said quietly. "We weren't making any progress and we didn't have any food. One night I just lost it with Harry and Hermione. I left them in the woods." Ron looked at his two friends. "I'm still sorry about that."

Harry smiled at him "You came back, and that's the important part."

Harry and Hermione then proceeded to talk about them going to Godric's Hollow, and the attack there. Harry then talked about seeing the Doe Patronus that Snape had cast, and about sliding into the lake. He praised Ron for rescuing him and destroying the locket.

Harry paused, realizing that they had come to a crossroads in the story. Next they had gone to Xenophilius Lovegood's house in search of answers to the Deathly Hallows, but he felt that he should keep that information to themselves. He paused, trying to consider what to do. He decided that half of the truth was better than a lie. "After that, we were still searching for more clues as to where the other Horcruxes should be," Harry said, looking at Ron and Hermione. He was hoping that they would play along. "We went to the Lovegood's house to see if Xenophilius knew anything either about Ravenclaw or about anything else Riddle may have wanted to use. At that time we didn't know about the Diadem." Harry's story quickly picked back up, avoiding any reference to the Hallows. Hermione looked at him oddly for a moment, but she didn't try and correct him.

The three of them talked about being betrayed by Xenophilius and their escape. They continued to Harry breaking the Taboo and being captured by the Snatchers. Hermione started shaking slightly as they retold their capture and imprisonment in Malfoy Manor. Ron held her hand, attempting to comfort her. Harry told them about Dobby's sacrifice and about rescuing Luna, Dean, Griphook, and Mr. Ollivander. He also mentioned stealing the wands from Draco.

The three of them continued on to the break-in into Gringotts. Then Harry told about his vision of Voldemort's rage when he discovered that his secret was known and how Harry realized that the last Horcrux was at Hogwarts. Here their story picked up speed because everyone was familiar with these events. Hermione talked about Ron's idea to break back into the Chamber of Secrets to get basilisk fangs and about her destroying the Cup. Then they quickly covered the fight in the Room of Hidden Things and the destruction of the Diadem by Fiendfyre.

Harry took a deep breath. They were approaching the end of the story, but the part he was dreading was coming up. He looked at Ron and Hermione, and then back to everyone else before he continued. "We only had the snake left to kill. We tracked Riddle down to the Shrieking Shack, where we watched him kill Snape. Riddle had taken Dumbledore's wand, believing it to be more powerful than his. It would also not be affected by Priori Incantatem like his own would. However, he thought Snape was the master of the wand because he had killed Dumbledore. He left, and we went to Snape. He gave some of his memories, and then died." Harry paused here, reflecting on the death of the man who had hated and tormented him, but who had so loved his mother that he died for him. After a moment, he continued.

"We came back up to the castle as Riddle called off his forces, waiting for me to meet him in the forest. Ron and Hermione stayed in the Great Hall as I came up here. I used the Pensieve to view Snape's memories. Snape had given me access to most of his life. I saw him and my mother growing up before coming to Hogwarts. I saw my dad, Sirius, and Lupin too. I saw Snape change sides, and why Dumbledore trusted him, and how he planned with Dumbledore. Finally, I saw a conversation between Dumbledore and Snape. Dumbledore was telling Snape that once Riddle became overprotective of his snake that Snape had to pass me a message that would lead to my defeating Riddle." Harry took another deep breath, and then continued trying to remain calm. "Dumbledore had discovered that the night Riddle came to kill me, he intended to create another Horcrux. But when the curse rebounded, that bit of soul came loose. It attached itself to the nearest living thing...me. It meant that as long as I was living, Riddle couldn't die. I had to die."

Silence hung in the room as Harry announced that he was an unintentional Horcrux, that he had carried Voldemort's soul inside of him for almost his whole life. Harry had expected more of a reaction to the news, but everyone stayed silent, spellbound at his story. Summoning up his courage, he attempted to finish the story. "So I walked out of the castle under my cloak. I avoided everyone except for Neville. I told him that he had to kill the snake, because after my death, that would be the last Horcrux. After he agreed, I walked into the Forest and offered myself up to Riddle. His followers didn't think I would show, but he knew. He knew that I would come, if only to stop the fighting."

Harry was looking back down at his hands which were draped over his lap. "He fired a Killing Curse at me, it hit me right here," he said pointing to his chest, above his heart. "And... I died, I think." Harry sat quietly for a moment, remembering. He watched as Ginny's hand reached over and took one of his. "I don't really know how to explain what happened next. I'm not even sure if it was real or not. I woke up in this big, white place. I was there for a while, and then I realized that I had a choice. I could either move onward, or I could come back to the Forest. I knew I had to come back, because Riddle was still alive." Harry said. "I think I had that choice because of what he had done to me in the graveyard. He took my blood, which had my mother's protection in it and used it to create his own body. However, instead of weakening me, he actually strengthened that protection. When he tried killing me that second time, instead of me dying, he just destroyed that part of me that was a Horcrux. So, because of all that, I had a choice. I chose to come back." Harry paused, and finally raised his head.

He felt like he had stepped out of the room and just returned, despite the fact that he had been in that seat for hours. He didn't want to look at anyone, but he couldn't help himself. He saw Mrs. Weasley first. She was holding her husband's arm and crying silently. She wasn't the only one. Hermione, Fleur, and to Harry's surprise, Professor McGonagall were also misty eyed. Mr. Weasley and Kingsley were sharing a look, and Hagrid had his face buried in his huge handkerchief. George was looking at Harry intently, his eyes watery as well. Harry knew he was thinking of that white place and wondering about Fred. Everyone else was focused on Harry, waiting for him to finish the story. Harry finally looked at Ginny. She still held his hand, but her eyes were focused on him. She wasn't crying, but her brown eyes had a strong quality as she stared into his green eyes.

"When I came to, I was lying down on the ground. Apparently Riddle had fallen as well. He sent Narcissa Malfoy to come see if I was alive. She felt my heart beating, so she knew I was. But, she asked me if Draco was alive. When I told her that he was, she lied to Riddle about me being dead. Riddle celebrated by using the Cruciatus curse on me, but the spell had no effect. It tossed me up into the air, but I didn't feel any pain. He had Hagrid carry my body up to the school while I pretended to be dead. You all know what happened after that," Harry said. "Neville killed the snake, which was the last Horcrux. After that, I was able to defeat Riddle because I was the owner of the wand he stole from Dumbledore. Draco had disarmed Dumbledore the night he died, and then I disarmed Draco weeks before. Even though he never held the wand, he was its master. It passed to me that night in the Manor. When we fired off our spells at the same time, it obeyed me instead of him" Harry concluded. He realized the story was finished. He felt like a great weight was lifted off his chest. With a sigh, he relaxed his shoulders and sat back in the chair and waited for the questions.

Everyone was silent for moment. They all seemed to be absorbing the information. To Harry's surprise, Neville was the one to speak first. "Harry, why did Voldemort's spells not work on us? You said something about it to him, but I didn't understand it."

Harry grew a little embarrassed. "Oh. Well, you know how my mother's sacrifice for me gave me protection from Riddle?" Neville nodded. "When I died, I wasn't fighting back. I was willingly giving myself up so that no one else would be hurt. I think that sacrifice gave you all the same protection against Voldemort."

Neville's mouth fell open. "So you let him kill you so that we would all be safe? Blimey, Harry!"

Harry nodded, but before anyone else could say anything, Mrs. Weasley had rushed over to Harry and thrown her arms around him. "You, dear, sweet man," she said through tears as she hugged him. Harry grunted as he held him too tightly. His ribs felt like they were on fire.

"Mum! His ribs!" Ginny shouted. Mrs. Weasley immediately let go and backed up, looking ashamed. Ginny was glaring at her mother.

"It's ok," Harry said. "I'm fine." He gently rubbed at his side. Despite what he said, they didn't feel too good. Harry looked around the room again. "Please don't feel like you owe me anything. I did it because I care about all of you, about everyone that was fighting. You don't need to thank me," he said, sheepishly.

"Harry, I think we do," Kingsley spoke up, his deep voice filling the office. "The whole world needs to thank you, and Ron and Hermione for what you did. But I think that may be for another time." Harry nodded gratefully. Kingsley continued "Harry, I know what you've told me, and I believe you. However, I feel that I have to ask this as the Minister for Magic. Can you assure me that Voldemort is gone for good?"

"Minister Shacklebolt," Harry said "Tom Riddle, known as Lord Voldemort, is dead. He will never return. If you need me to swear any official statement, I can do so."

Kingsley smiled broadly "I think that will do Harry, but I will let you know."

Everyone was silent for a moment. Professor McGonagall finally broke the silence. "Dumbledore always said he had a reason to trust Severus. He never said that what it was, and after last year..."

Harry nodded. "Snape didn't want anyone to know. I'm not sure if he was worried about legilimency, or if he wanted it a secret, but he asked Dumbledore not to tell anyone. Dumbledore had known he was loyal, because his Patronus was a doe, just like my mother's, even after all these years. He was loyal to the end."

Hermione turned to Harry. "So does that mean that you don't hate Snape any more?"

Harry sat for a moment, trying to make up his mind. "No, I don't think I hate him. He treated me like rubbish. He'll never be one of my favorite people, but I think I respect him. He loved my mother very much. He was a brave man." Harry looked up at the portraits, noticing that there wasn't one of Snape yet. Harry wondered if there ever would be one.

A sudden knock at the door made everyone turn. Mr. Weasley opened it, poking his head out. A moment later, he turned back inside, holding the door open for Madam Pomfrey to walk in, levitating a tray filled with bandages and potions in front of her.

She spotted Harry instantly. "Mr. Potter, I need to change your dressing," she said briskly. Professor McGonagall showed them to a side room where Harry could have some privacy.

By the time he returned, he found everyone eating supper. Apparently, McGonagall had called for it to be delivered up here. Harry was thankful, he didn't want to have to eat down in the Great Hall again. Everyone was talking with each other, eating out of plates in their laps. Harry smiled as he was reminded of the group dinners at Grimmauld Place after Order meetings.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were seated off to the side. Hermione motioned him over to an empty seat next to her. As Harry slide down into it, Ginny handed him a plate filled with sandwiches.

"I grabbed this for you when it looked like someone was going to eat the last of them," she said, glaring at Ron.

Ron glared back. "There were plenty! We never had anything to eat all year. I'm trying to catch back up." Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron.

As Harry was about to bite into his sandwich, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley approached them. "Kingsley has just gotten an owl back from the Ministry," Mr. Weasley said. "They've connected the fireplace in here with the one at Aunt Muriel's just for tonight, so we can go home after dinner."

Ginny groaned, which seemed to annoy her mother. "Ginevra, you know our house is cursed! We can't go back to the Burrow until the Ministry has cleared it. Aunt Muriel has been a blessing to us!"

Harry could barely hear Ginny as she muttered under her breath "I'd rather take my chances with the house."

Harry swallowed quickly. "Mr. Weasley, do you think he could do the same for Grimmauld Place? I can't Apparate because of my ribs, so Floo is really the only way."

Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry, looking slightly offended. "Harry, dear, aren't you going to come with us?"

"I didn't think that there would be room," Harry said, embarrassedly. "Besides, I didn't want to get in the way."

Mrs. Weasley looked at her husband, who simply nodded at her. When she spoke, her voice was lacking some of the forcefulness that Harry had always attributed to her. "Alright, Harry, if that is what you want. Hermione, you are welcome to come, but it is your choice. You are both adults. Ronald, I do expect you to come with us."

Ron started to protest, but Mr. Weasley interrupted. "Ron, do as your mother says." He looked back at Harry. "Has Grimmauld Place been cleared? I know that the Death Eaters were able to gain access to it."

"I talked with Kreacher this morning," Harry said. Ron and Hermione shot him a furtive glance. He hadn't told them yet. "He said that he had magically sealed it and that it was safe."

Hermione glanced at Ron. "I think I will go with Harry then, just to make sure it's alright." Ron looked put off, but gave a nod of support. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ron left to go talk to Bill.

Ron returned in a moment, still looking displeased. "Your mum seems to be holding up really well," Harry said quietly to Ginny as the others began discussing the appointment of Kingsley to Minister.

Ginny was watching her parents talking to Percy and Charlie now. "She's not. She's bottling it all up inside. She thinks she needs to be strong for all of us. Staying at Muriel's isn't going to help, especially because it will reminder her of what happened to the Burrow..." She turned back to Harry and gave him a worried look.

"What did happen?" he said, concerningly.

"Lupin went by to check it out after we went into hiding," Ginny said, her voice cracking slightly. "According to him, they trashed up the place and cursed it several times. It's not safe for anyone to walk around, much less live in. They thought that you might try to sneak back there and stay."

Harry turned back to his sandwiches, unsure how to address this situation. The Weasleys were the closest thing to a real family that he ever had. He wished he knew of a way to ease their pain, but he couldn't think of any, aside from giving them space to grieve.

Harry had just finished his dinner when Kingsley and McGonagall walked over to the young witches and wizards. Hermione was the first to notice them. "Hello Professor, Minister."

Kingsley flashed her a broad smile. "Hermione, you can just call me Kingsley. We've been through too much for titles."

Professor McGonagall didn't look like she wanted to give them the same concession. "I'm glad I've managed to gather you all before you left. We need to discuss your schooling." She turned to Ginny. "Ms. Weasley, your mother assures me that you will be returning next year." Ginny gave something of a sour face, but nodded. "Mr. Longbottom, you've completed a majority of this joke of a seventh year. If you like, you can sit for exams. We will be having them in a couple of weeks." Neville nodded, mentioning that he'd talk to his Gran about it. Harry guessed that the formidable woman would see to it that Neville took those exams.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Potter," she turned to the three of them. "You are not the only students to have missed your final year. We are offering such students the chance to return and receive another year of schooling. You will be able to sit for your N.E.W.T.s at the end of term."

Before they could say anything, Kingsley spoke up again. "What are your plans for a career? Are you still wanting to joining the Auror office?" he asked, looking at Harry and Ron.

Harry glanced at his friend. "Uh... Yes, I still am."

"Me too," Ron said.

To everyone's surprise, Neville said "I am as well." Everyone turned to look at him in amazement.

Professor McGonagall recovered the quickest. "I think your parents would be very proud," she said.

Kingsley's smile grew. "In that case, I think you should wait before committing to anything, including returning to school."

Hermione interjected "But you must have N.E.W.T.s before the Auror office will even consider your application!"

"Normally, yes," Kingsley said. "But these are not normal times. We've lost over half of the Auror office over the past few years to the war, and they are not the only branch of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I've already begun to work on something with Gawain Robards. He's the head of the Auror office." Kingsley winked conspiratorially. "I'd appreciate it if you could keep this quiet. I don't need the press finding out about this yet."

Professor McGonagall spoke again. "The Minister seems to be working on a great opportunity for you, but do remember how valuable more education is as well," she nodded at them, and then took her leave.

Kingsley waited for her to get out of earshot, and then turned back to them. "She'll make a wonderful Headmistress." He looked at Harry. "Harry, if your friends can spare you, can I have a word?"

Harry and Kingsley found a private corner of the office. "Harry, have you made any plans for this summer yet?"

Harry adjusted his glasses as he thought. Both Scrimgeour and Fudge, the previous Ministers, had wanted to use Harry as a propaganda tool. Kingsley had never seemed like that sort of person to Harry, but he was still wary.

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet," Harry said carefully.

"Very understandable. You've had a busy time," Kingsley said. He paused, giving Harry an appraising look. "Harry, I know that my predecessors wanted to use your status in our community as a means to an end. I never want to do that. I want you to feel free to refuse any request that the Ministry makes of you." He clapped Harry's shoulder. "That being said, you are now in a great position because of your triumphs. I wholeheartedly believe that you and your friends are the best hope for the future of our nation. I want to do what I can to help that future become a reality. Is there anything that I can do for you now?"

Harry paused, thoughtfully. This was not what he was expecting, although he knew that Kingsleys was a good man. Harry hadn't really thought about the future. The prophecy had weighed so heavily upon him that he had not had the strength to think beyond a final confrontation with Voldemort.

Thinking of creating a future world brought to mind what Lupin had about Teddy in the forest, that he would know his parents died trying to create a happier world. "I think the first thing I want to do is visit the families of those who have died in the war. I want them to know what their loved ones were fighting for, and what we have achieved," Harry said, firmly. He knew it would be difficult, seeing and living in their grief, but he owed it to those who had fought and died.

"Harry, I believe that is a good idea. If you wouldn't mind, I will accompany you," Kingsley said. "They should know that their government also appreciates the sacrifices they made."

"Sounds like a good start," Harry replied. "It's time for the Ministry to acknowledge what has happened."

"Agreed, Harry," the Minister said. "I will send you an owl with the details." he paused for a moment. "I believe that the press will be desperate for your story as well. I'll do what I can to have them leave you alone, but I'm sure it will not be perfect. I will also need to make some sort of statement concerning what you told me. I only want to give it out with your approval. I can get a draft of it to you shortly, and we can work from there."

"I think that's a good idea," Harry said inspite of himself. He was going to have to learn to work with the Ministry if he wanted to be an Auror. Kingsley hadn't asked him to do anything he was opposed to. Perhaps the new government could be improved. He shook Kingley's hand, and returned to the others. They were discussing their option of returning to school or finding a career elsewhere. Harry sat back down in his chair, his chest feeling tight. He squirmed around in his chair until he could breathe normally again. He joined in the conversation, discussing what the future would hold for them.

The gathering looked like it was ending. Out the windows Harry could see the sun setting on the grounds. "I need to go gather up my things from the dorm room," Harry announced to the group.

"I think we all do, Harry," Hermione said. She gathered their empty plates, and set them carefully on a table.. "I'll let Mr. Weasley know that we will be back soon."

Ginny helped Harry to his feet, his ribs still protesting. The walk to Gryffindor tower wasn't a long one, but Harry was already feeling sore from a long day.


	5. Return to Grimmauld Place

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace into the dingy kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust the darkness. Harry quickly stepped into the kitchen proper; Hermione was supposed to be coming right behind him and he didn't fancy the idea of her barreling into him.

"Welcome back, Master Harry," Kreacher croaked, hurrying forward to take Harry's rucksack. "Kreacher apologizes for the distressing state of his master's home. Her will punish himself accordingly after the cleaning is finished."

Harry looked around the room. The counters were sparkling, the floor was clean. Despite the darkness of the room, it looked like an inviting kitchen. It looked just like they had left it, months ago.

"I forbid you from punishing yourself Kreacher. I think the house looks fine." Harry admonished.

"Very well. Shall Kreacher prepare dinner?" The house-elf asked, bowing.

Just then, the green flames of Floo powder appeared in the fireplace. Hermione spun wildly in the flames and tumbled to the flagstones of the floor. Harry hurried over to help her up, but she waved him away.

"Hello, Kreacher," she said kindly after getting to her feet.

"Mistress Hermione," Kreacher said, bowing low again. "Would Master like dinner served in the kitchen tonight?"

"No dinner, Kreacher. We just ate at the school." Harry managed around yawning. It had been a long day and Harry was eagerly thinking about the comfortable, if somewhat musty, bed that he had occupied during their stay. "I think we would just like to get some sleep, but we have a couple of things to do. Can you bring my bag up to my room? I'm not sure if I can manage it on the stairs."

"Of course, Master," Kreacher said, sounding unsure. Harry remembered how worried the house-elf had been about them eating when they had hidden out there over the summer. He had hoped that Kreacher wouldn't start back up on that again.

As Kreacher hurried out of the room, Harry looked at Hermione. She was already waving her wand, muttering "Homenum Revelio." After a brief moment, she turned to back to Harry. "It seems we are alone."

"Kreacher said that he sealed the place, and he's been here for a while," Harry said. "If there was something wrong, he would have seen it by now."

He drew his wand and conjured his stag patronus and sent it on to Ron, informing them they were alright and the house was safe. Mr. Weasley had showed them how to do it before they left Hogwarts, insisting that they update him once they arrived in the house. Harry found that he picked up the modified spell easily, which considering his talent in the Patronus Charm already, surprised no one.

Harry drew up a chair across from Hermione. They were going to wait until they heard back from the Weasleys before going to bed. Harry studied Hermione. He hadn't expected her to come with him, especially if Ron wasn't coming as well. Maybe she really was angry with him."So, why did you come with me Hermione? I thought you'd want to be with Ron," Harry inquired.

"I do," she said, blushing slightly. "I just can't stand his Aunt Muriel. Remember how she treated me at the wedding?"

Harry gave her a level gaze, but accepted her explanation. "I guess I can't blame you there. Ron was rather upset when Mrs. Weasley ordered him to come with them. Ginny wasn't too happy either."

A silver shape flew through the window. It resolved into Ron's patron, a jack russell terrier. Ron's voice came out of it. "Everyone arrived safely. Muriel already yelled at me for my long hair."

Harry and Hermione laughed as they pictured Ron's face at being berated by his wizened great aunt. While it hurt his bruised ribs, the laughter felt good to Harry. As it died down, Hermione exclaimed "Harry, I think there's an owl at the window!"

Harry looked out the grimy window. He could barely make out a flapping shape scratching at the pane. He hobbled over, and opened the window. A stately screech owl quickly flew inside, perching next to the sink. In it's beak was a parchment envelope. He grabbed it, and then turned on the faucet so the owl could have a drink. The envelope was addressed "H. Potter, 12 Grimmauld Place." Flipping it over, Harry saw the seal of the Ministry of Magic.

Harry opened it up, seeing two separate pieces of paper. The first was a list of names, dates, and times. The first one read "Margaret Watson, May 4, 11:00 AM". More names followed, approximately fifty in all. These were the names of those who had died in the battle. The second parchment was a letter, written with small, blocky letters. The top was embossed with the official Ministry of Magic, Office of the Minister for Magic seal.

Harry-

Thank you for agreeing to come to the ceremonies. I know it will be difficult for you, but your presence should help to ease the grief of the families. Please find attached the latest listing of victims and the date and time of their ceremonies.

I understand that your injuries prevent you from traveling easily. I am currently working on arrangements for transportation. For now, please Floo to the Ministry tomorrow. If you would, meet me for breakfast in my office at 8 o'clock. I've also arranged for Hermione to meet with several departments during that time so she can plan her trip to recover her parents.

Please respond by return owl at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Minister for Magic

Harry flipped back to the list. There were funerals for the next eight days. This would keep him busy.

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione said, getting up from the table. He handed the letter to her and she quickly scanned it. "Kingsleys is always so thoughtful. He'll make a fine Minister," she said. "I've got a quill somewhere..." She began searching through her beaded bag. Harry hadn't noticed she brought it with her.

After a moment, she produced the quill and some parchment and handed them to Harry. He quickly scribbled a reply to the Minister. The owl took it in his beak, gave Harry a muffled "Whoot" and then flew out of the window. Hermione closed it behind it.

"Harry, did Kingsley ask you to come to the funerals?" Hermione carefully asked.

Harry leaned against the countertop. "No, I had told him that I wanted to go. I think the families deserve to know that I share their grief. It's the least I can do."

Hermione gave him a warm smile. "I think that's a great idea Harry," she said. She paused, looking thoughtful. "I suppose you'll need your dress robes for the funerals, if they are anything like a muggle funeral. We always dressed up nice for them."

Harry nodded. He had never been to a funeral, besides Dumbledore's, which he suspected was not entirely typical. "Would the ones we wore for the wedding work? I think we left them here. Kreacher should know where they are." He raised his voice and called "Kreacher, where are my dress robes?"

The house was silent. Harry looked over at Hermione, who was frowning. Kreacher should have been back down to the kitchen by now. It wasn't like him to ignore when he was called, not after what passed between them last fall. "Kreacher?" Harry called hesitantly.

With a loud crack, the door burst open, flying out of it's frame. Lurching in the doorway was a large, gaunt man. The flesh was rotting off his face, and one arm was skeletal. It's empty gaze turned to Hermione and started for her. Hermione's scream of terror set all of Harry's hair on end.

Harry saw another rotten, horrible creature begin to lumber towards him. He reached for his wand, but realized too late that it was on the table. The creature rushed at Harry, swinging a meaty arm at him. Reflexively, Harry threw himself backwards, barely avoiding the blow. He was not prepared for the second blow, which clipped him on his left arm. The attack was stronger than he had thought possible. It sent him flying back, falling to the floor beside the fireplace. He landed, the arm that was just beaten breaking his fall. He felt pain erupt out of his shoulder, and a sudden numbness spread down to his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Hermione attempting to fire a stunning spell at the one attacking her, but the red light bounced off of it, hitting the ceiling with a loud crack.

The stumbling creature drew Harry's attention as it charged at him, aiming a kick at his head. Fighting past the pain, he rolled out of the way, and his fingers brushed against something cold and metal. Harry grabbed the iron poker and swung it towards his attacker. It connected on it's shoulder with a sickening, meaty thud. The thing was unaffected; it slammed it's other arm into Harry's sides and sent him skidding.

Harry's eyes filled with stars and his vision narrowed. The blow had landed against his bruised ribs and the intense pain threatened to overwhelm him. His vision narrowed until he could only see tiny points of light. He fought against the darkness that was overwhelming his senses, but it was too strong and he slumped back, surrendering.

A high-pitched scream jerked him back to life. He was under the table. Hermione had one arm around him, the other holding the legs of a chair. She was kicking at the skeletal arm that was reaching for her.

"Harry!" she was screaming into his ear. "Harry! Wake up!"

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his vision. As he did, he saw his wand. It had apparently been knocked of the table, and had rolled under a chair. He lunged for it and felt the familiar warmth rush up his arm. He pulled it back as the chair exploded in a shower of slivers. The other monster had swung for Harry's arm, but missed.

Harry raised his wand, preparing to attack, but he felt a bone crushing grip encase his ankle, and he was pulled backwards out from under the table. The first creature hauled Harry away from the protection of the table, and raised its arm to slam down on him.

Harry acted without thinking. "Incendio!" he shouted, pointing his wand toward the thing's rotted face. A blast of white-hot flames shot forward and engulfed the thing's head. The blast quickly died away, revealing a now-headless corpse. The grip on Harry's leg loosened, and he kicked the hand away. The thing fell backwards, once again lifeless. Harry surged to his feet, fighting past the pain that was racking his chest. He spun, trying to find the other monster. It was rushing around the table for him. He leveled his wand, and blasted fire through the thing's chest. It crashed onto the floor, not moving.

Harry leaned back against the table, suddenly weak. His own chest felt as if it were on fire, and his arm was like lead. He struggled to catch his breath, fighting the pain. Hermione crawled out from under the table, her wand held tightly in her hand. She eyed the fallen things, but quickly turned back to Harry.

Breathlessly, she said "Harry, are you alright? Where those Inferi?"

He nodded, holding his good arm across his chest. "Yes, they were." Harry recalled the frightening creatures that Voldemort used to guard the locket. he frantically wondered who had set the Inferi into his house.

Hermione leaned heavily on the table. "I panicked," she said, embarrassment evident in her tone.. "I forgot that most spells don't affect them. That's why you used fire."

"Right," Harry wheezed. He was starting to get his breath back. "I had the same problem when Dumbledore and I went to get the locket..." Harry's heart began to beat rapidly again. He sprung to his feet and rushed for the door. "Kreacher!"

Harry was slowed by his wounds and his bandages. Hermione was faster, racing past him out the door and up the stairs, her wand at the ready.

Harry chased after her as quickly as he could. He reached the landing between the second and third floors when he saw Hermione on the top step, huddled against a small house-elf sized body, her wand raised. Harry could see the shimmering of a shield spell, but slamming against it were more Inferi. There must have been dozens of them; their rotten bodies filled the hallway and the bedrooms. The Inferi pushed and shoved against one another in desperation to get to Hermione and Kreacher. The strength of their blows and footsteps rocked the floor beneath Harry's feet. Hermione's face was strained with the effort of keeping the shield up against their onslaught.

Harry raised his wand, pointing it around her shield. He fired off another fire blast at one Inferi slamming its arm on the shield, but his spell missed wildly. The creatures began to shove one another, trying to run from the heat and flames. He conjured fire again and again, managing to strike a few, but as soon as one fell, another rose to take it's place. Hermione looked to Harry, fear in her eyes.

Suddenly, her shield spell failed, and the Inferi charged forward towards Hermione and the elf. Harry acted without thinking. Harry charged up the stairs, ripping his bandages in his haste. With one smooth motion and a cry of "Protego!" he created a new shield between Hermione and the monsters. It thrummed to life, shoving the undead backwards. Several fell, but the others stepped over them and began pounded against his shield.

Harry waved his wand wide, conjuring waves of fire. He was back in the dark cave, standing on the island with Dumbledore as the Inferi crawled up the sides of the rock to them. Dumbledore produced a huge, swirling storm of fire to drive their attackers away. Harry found himself doing the same. Waves of flame grew from his wand, leaping over his shield and engulfing the inferni. The creatures ran, stumbling, back away from the spell, but their numbers prevented them from escaping back into the dark bedrooms beyond. Harry continued to direct the firestorm, whipping large tongues of flames against the Inferi. The heat from the spell was overwhelming, and Harry turned his face away, ending the spell.

A sudden, elemental roar caused him to look. The inferni seemed to all be collapsed; some were on fire. But power of his spell had caused the old wood of the walls to catch flame. As Harry watched in horror, the walls began to burn rapidly.

"Hermione! Get out of here!" Harry shouted over the flames. He ended his shield charm, and reached for her hand with his numb arm. She grabbed it and pulled herself and Kreacher upwards. Harry staggered as pain flooded through him again. She ran down the stairs, holding the house-elf against her chest.

Harry stared as his godfather's house began to burn. The heat of the inferno slammed into him. Smoke billowed around him stinging his nose and tasting bitter in his mouth. It burned his lungs as he gasped for breath. Looking through the smoke, he could see his room and the hallway was already engulfed in flames up to the ceiling. The rest of the walls he could see were on fire as well. The bodies of inferni lay amongst the fire, burning. Flames raced across the ancient carpet towards him. The House of Black was burning.

A loud crack above his head caused Harry to look up. The flames were trailing across the ceiling, smoke filling the hallways. The far end of the hallway was collapsing downward. Harry raced back down to the landing, surprising calm. He tapped his wand at his face, creating a bubble of clean air around himself. Next, he jabbed his wand at the ceiling, a jet of water bursting forth from it's tip. Harry swept his wand back and forth, in a similar motion to the firestorm he had created. Now, instead of battling undead, he was fighting flame and heat.

Calmly and methodically, Harry drenched the inferno with the jet of water from his wand. Slowly, he managed to contain the flames, preventing them from spreading. A second jet of water joined his, and he realized Hermione was beside him. She had cast a Bubble-head Charm as well. Her face was streaked with soot and sweat, but she looked determined.

Together they managed to extinguish the flames. The damage was extensive. The walls were all scorched and blackened and several looked on the verge of collapse. The floor and ceilings looked the same. The end of the hallways was a pile of burned debris. Everything was dripping wet, and water was running down the stairs. Harry peered into his bedroom. The flames had burned the longest in here. His bed and the few meager belongings he had in this room were burned beyond repair. Inferi littered the floor, their corpses twisted by the heat of the flames and the throes of death.

Harry slumped down on the stairs, exhaustion catching up with him. His chest and arm were pounding in pain. He struggled to get air into his lungs. Hermione gave him a worried look, but he shook her off. Hermione began to syphon up the smoke with her wand. After a moment, she removed the charm around her head, and Harry did the same.

The stench of fire, smoke, and steam rushed into him, along with the gut-wrenching odor of burned flesh and hair. Harry nearly vomited, but held it in. Hermione helped Harry to his feet and led him down into the drawing room. She set him down in a chair and hurriedly fled the room. Harry realized that his bandages had slipped and torn. He carefully tucked them around himself, pressing them against his chest with his good hand. Hermione reappeared a moment later, carrying Kreacher. She gently laid him down on a sofa.

Harry was still having problems breathing, but he asked "How is he?" Memories of holding Dobby's small body, his eyes sightless, staring up at the stars bubbled up in Harry's mind.

"I think he was just knocked unconscious," Hermione said quietly. "He looks battered, but alright." She placed her wand against Kreacher's chest. "Rennervate," she said, quietly. The bulbous eyes of the house-elf slowly fluttered, then opened.

Harry's heart fell back out of his throat. Relief spread through him, and he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He began cough as the pains in his chest doubled. It was a deep, painful, hacking cough. Above his coughing, he heard Kreacher shouting.

"Master Harry! The Dead Walkers are in the house! We must -"

Hermione interrupted him. "Kreacher, it's alright. Harry has taken care of them. We are safe."

Harry managed to get his breathing back under control. His lips felt wet, so he touched them with his fingers. Pulling them away, he saw that they were dark with blood. "Uh, Hermione?" Harry called weakly.

She turned and gasped. "Harry! We need to get you to a Healer, right now!" Harry began coughing again, and he felt his head begin to swim.

Before she could stand up, Kreacher was at Harry's side. "Master, may Kreacher heal you?" he asked quietly.

Before Harry could do as much as nod, Kreacher laid his long, thin fingers on Harry's chest. Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest and into his arm. He heard a small 'pop' from his shoulder, and then pain in his chest eased. He found it easier to breathe, and a strange fuzzy feeling in his mind lifted. He hadn't realized it was there until it was gone. After a moment, Kreacher stepped back.

"Does Master Harry feel better?" the house-elf asked.

Harry gently moved his arm, flexing it. It seemed to be as good as new. "I do. Thank you Kreacher."

Kreacher walked over to Hermione, and gently laid his hand on her arm. Her cuts and bruises magically sealed themselves before Harry's eyes.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Hermione said, quietly.

The elf bowed. "Kreacher is just doing his duty to his Master. He is very sorry about the attack on the house," Kreacher's eyes began to fill with tears. "He will go punish himself now." He rushed towards the door frame and proceeded to bash his head against it.

"Kreacher! You didn't know about it!" Hermione exclaimed. "Harry, stop him!"

"Kreacher, I forbid you from punishing yourself over this," Harry said quickly. "Clearly some dark wizards did something here. This was not your fault, you didn't know." The elf backed away from the door, his eyes slightly crossed. Harry waited until they had refocused. "Kreacher," he said, kindly, "can you tell us what happened?"

"Kreacher took Master's bag up to his room. Kreacher found it hard to remember where it was, but he remembered in the end. Kreacher opened the door, and then the Dead Walkers came out. Two rushed past Kreacher before he could stop the rest. Kreacher tried to use his magic to keep the rest in the room, but Master Harry called for Kreacher," Kreacher began to cry again, big tears streaming down around his snout-like nose. "Kreacher let himself get distracted, and the Dead Walkers broke his magic. They hit Kreacher very hard. The next thing Kreacher remembers is Mistress Hermione waking him up."

"What do you mean, you found it hard to remember where Harry's room was?" Hermione said, concerned.

"Kreacher had forgotten that Master Harry had a room," Kreacher said. "When Kreacher was ordered to bring the bag there, Kreacher remembered. When he opened the door, the Dead Walkers came out."

"Thank you for trying to defend us, Kreacher," Harry said. The elf was swaying on his feet. Harry wondered just how hard he had gotten hit. "Do you need a Healer, Kreacher?"

Kreacher's eyes widened. "No house-elf has ever been treated by a Healer, Master Harry. Kreacher will be fine. He will work hard to make sure the house is clean."

Hermione started to protest, but Harry talked over her. "No, Kreacher, you go to your bed and rest. If you need any healing, please tell me or Hermione. We'll get you taken care of."

Once Kreacher had left the room, Hermione turned to Harry. "Harry, I think someone used a memory-modifying charm on Kreacher!"

"I think so too. He seemed somewhat confused," Harry agreed. He thought for a moment, then continued. "I think that Yaxley or someone else must have come into the house after we left. They probably questioned Kreacher before he could leave, and then put the Inferi in my bedroom. Before they left, they must have modified Kreacher's memory so he wouldn't remember them or go in there. If he had, he could have warned us or sprung the trap."

"Do you think we should report it?" Hermione said, worried. "The Ministry should know."

"I agree, Hermione, but right now isn't the time," Harry said, easing to his feet. "We have to see if there is anything else waiting for us in the house."

"Harry, shouldn't we leave and go stay with the Weasleys?" Hermione said worriedly. "This house isn't safe!"

"No," Harry said firmly. "I've been enough of a burden to the Weasleys. The rest of the house is probably fine. We can just stay here."

Hermione started to disagree, but she caught the look in Harry's eyes. "Fine," she said, resignedly, "At least let me send Ron a Patronus to let him know what happened."

"Don't," Harry said. "They'll just worry and want to come. It's better if they don't know for now. We can handle this on our own."

She looked at him skeptically. "Harry, someone filled your house with inferni and almost killed us."

"But they didn't," Harry said. "We'll be fine. Let's sweep the rest of the house, to make sure, and then go to bed."

Hermione tried to insist that Harry rest, but he wouldn't hear of it. Kreacher's healing had given him some energy back in addition to fixing what the Inferi had done to him. The wounds from the Killing Curse still pained him, however. They walked through the house, slowly because of Harry's chest. They didn't find anything else that the Death Eaters left behind. After they both agreed that the rest of the house was not an immediate threat, Hermione suggested they clean up. Considering how dirty her face was and how filthy he felt, Harry agreed.

After Hermione emerged fresh and clean, Harry took his turn in the first floor bathroom. He got a good look at himself in the mirror. It was worse than he expected. His face was caked in black soot, his hair normally black hair was grey with ash. His shirt was splattered with blood. He peeled it off, and checked under his bandages. His cut had opened up again, probably during the fighting. His bruises were still vivid.

Sometime later, Harry lay on the floor in the drawing room. Hermione had gotten him some relatively clean clothes from her beaded bag, and had helped him to wrap up his chest. It wasn't done as well as Madam Pomfrey, but it would do.

They had agreed that it would be safest to sleep in the drawing room. Hermione had insisted on placing at least some of the basic protection spells they had used over the past year over the room. In the morning, they would ask the Minister about getting the house properly checked out by trained wizards. Hermione still wanted to contact the Ministry immediately, but Harry had argued her down saying that the government had more than enough to handle at the moment. She had reluctantly agreed, and then, at Harry's urging, taken the sofa as the bed.

As they lay in the dark, the air still slightly stinging of the fire, Hermione quietly said "Harry, is everything alright?"

Harry, who was laying on his back, didn't answer right away. His thoughts returned to his discussion with Ginny that morning. So many had died, but they had achieved victory, even if it was bittersweet. Their sacrifice was not in vain, and Harry was going to do everything to make sure it stayed that way. He finally said "Why wouldn't it be? We've won the war. We're heroes."

Neither of them said anything more for the rest of the night.

Harry lay there, unable to sleep. The pain in his chest was uncomfortable, but it was his mind that refused to let him sleep. He keep replaying the events of the past few days in his mind, but not in any order. One moment, he would remember holding on to the dragon flying above London. The next, he would be remembering Draco's face when Ron said that Crabbe got what he deserved. It felt like his brain couldn't handle everything that had happened, and was visiting each event randomly in an attempt to make sense of it all.

Harry walked out from Hagrid's cabin. The dead lay before him, stretched out across Hogwart's sloping lawns. Their faces covered by hoods, dark with blood. A violent wind tore across the grounds, the trees of the Forbidden Forest snapping and falling to the ground. Behind him, the castle groaned as its wall collapsed, sending boulders soaring downwards. They struck the dead, tearing their bodies apart. He screamed, his throat raw.

He was suddenly high in the air, looking down at the destruction. The ground under the bodies swelled and then opened, like the jaws of a dragon. Harry could see the fire of the earth erupt upwards, sweeping over the corpses. They began to move, jerking like Inferni. They clawed their way away from the opening in the ground, away from the fire. They began to howl like the wind, and their voices cut into him.

"Harry Potter. Save us. Harry Potter. The Chosen One. Why do you live? Why are we dead? Harry Potter. Save us. Save us. Save us."

"NO!" he screamed. He thrust his arms down at them. The fires from inside the earth burst forth, hot and hungry. They consumed the bodies, dragging them down the pit of earth with them. The hole grew, and soon it devoured the grounds, the forest, and the castle. There was nothing left but the fire and the huge maw of the earth.

Harry heard another voice, this one oddly high pitched. "Join us Harry Potter," said the voice of Voldemort. "Come join the dead. We await you." Harry was being sucked into the gaping maw of the earth as well. He fought against it, but was pulled down inevitably. As the darkness overwhelmed him, he heard a haunting, echoing voice say "Neither can live while the other lies dead."

Harry sat bolt up, tangled up in his sheets. Darkness was still surrounding him. It seemed to press against his skin. He instinctively reached for his scar, but he felt no pain from it. He cradled his head, trying to calm down. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

He realized that he was still in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, not back at Hogwarts. It dawned on him that this terrifying nightmare was just a typical dream. It wasn't a vision sent to him by his connection to Voldemort. This was not caused by two souls trying to share the same body. This was just a normal nightmare, brought on by the horrors he had experienced and the guilt that he refused to let go.

He lay back, feeling strangely relieved, despite his racing heart. He was truly finished with that horrible part of his life. No more would he have to see dreams and visions of a murderer. Instead, he only had his own nightmares to plague him. Harry straightened the sheets and tried to clear his mind of the pains of the past, hoping to slip peacefully into a dreamless sleep.


	6. Robards and Watts

The flashes of the cameras were creating stars in Harry's eyes. He raised his arm to try and shield his eyes. Reporters were crowded into the Atrium in the Ministry of Magic. Harry and Hermione had just arrived by Floo powder. They had passed a group of official-looking wizards studying the horrible statute in the atrium and were working their way to the lifts with the small crowd of early morning employees when someone shouted "Look! It's Harry!"

They suddenly found themselves the center of attention. Harry's hand was shaken more times than he could count as witches and wizards introduced themselves. So many people were thanking him or offering their help that he didn't realized that he had gotten separated from Hermione. He couldn't see over all the people standing around him, each trying to get his attention. He tried to polite excuse himself, but the people weren't budging.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted over the crowd, but he couldn't hear any reply. A camera flash erupted in his face, and he blinked rapidly, looking for the source.

A tiny wizard with a purple dumpling shaped hat was holding a camera. "One more, for the Daily Prophet, Mr. Potter?" he wheezed.

Harry ignored him, and continued looking for Hermione. He started pushing through the crowd. He finally found her, surrounded by a similar crowd of well-wishers and supporters. He pushed his way to her. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said grabbing her hand and pulling her behind him.

They pushed their way to the lifts, but a line of reporters and photographers blocked their way. The cameras seemed to all go off at once in a great snap and cloud of smoke. The reporters began firing questions at them.

"Harry, care to give an interview?"

"Where have you been the past year? What were you doing?"

"What was it like to kill You-Know-Who?"

"Why'd you break into Gringotts?"

One voice cut above the rest. "Oh Harry! Are you and the lovely Ms. Granger going out once more?" Hermione's hand suddenly dropped out of his own. Harry turned with dread to see Rita Skeeter standing directly in front of the lift in a bright blue dress. Her acid green Quick Quotes Quill rapidly flew across the page. She gave him a look that reminded Harry of a cat toying with a mouse.

"No." Harry said, trying to answer all the questions. Everyone quieted down, but Harry could practically hear quills pausing "No to everything. Now, please, move out of my way. I have an appointment."

Rita Skeeter spoke up. "With who, Harry? Are you going to speak with our new Minister? Or perhaps with Head Auror Robards?"

Harry shook his head. "I am late for an appointment. Excuse me." He tried to push his way through them to the lift, but they resisted.

"Freedom of the press, Harry," smiled Rita, acidly. "Give our readers something. We're all dying for any news about the Chosen One. Where have you been? How does it feel to have killed You-Know-Who?"

Harry stood there, glaring at them. He could be as stubborn as they were.

The calm, reassuring voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt broke the silence. "Security, please escort the press away from the lifts. We have people needing to get to work." He stepped from behind Harry, a small squad of security wizards behind him. They began to move the reporters and camera men, although some required more force than others. "The Ministry will be releasing an official statement shortly. Please direct all inquiries to the Press Office. Thank you for your cooperation."

As the witches and wizards blocking their way were escorted back into the Atrium, Kingsley turned to Harry and Hermione."I have breakfast ready in my office, if you care to join me?"

As the three of them got into a lift, Kingsley said "Sorry about the press. It seems someone in the office alerted them. Just out of curiosity, what would you have done if they hadn't moved, Harry?"

"I really hadn't thought that far ahead yet," He admitted.

"I always found Dumbledore's method best. A big flash and bang, then run in the other direction," Kingsley said smiling as the lift shuttered and began to drop.

* * *

"Harry, you must let me send some Aurors to check out Grimmauld Place," Kingsley insisted. "We have trained witches and wizards to do these sorts of things."

Harry sighed. Hermione had brought up last night's Inferi attack during their breakfast, and Kingsley had managed to get the whole story out of her. Harry had just wanted a normal breakfast, or at least one as normal as you can in the office of the Minister of Magic.

The room was very spartan in accommodations. Harry supposed this was because Kingsley had been in office for less than two days. Numerous suspiciously clean places on the walls and floor indicated the location of furniture or paintings. The only thing occupying the room beside a large wooden desk and several chairs was a framed photograph, hanging on the wall behind Kingsley. Harry had glanced up at it over breakfast. It looked like it was taken one night at Grimmauld Place during a meeting of the Order.

"It's alright. Hermione and I checked it out. There didn't seem to be anything else," Harry said. "I'm sure that you have plenty on your plate that doesn't involve poking around in an old house."

"Harry, your safety and protection is one of our top priorities. If I had to, I could always use my authority as the Minister to order a search of the house for any dark objects or clues to the location of missing Death Eaters - "

Harry shot him an angry look, and Kingsley held up his hands.

"I said I could, not that I wanted to," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "I'd much rather do it with your permission."

Harry looked at him, and then at Hermione. With another sigh, Harry agreed.

"Thank you Harry. Feel free to wait here while I make the arrangements," he swept to the door and as he opened it, a flock of magenta paper airplanes swooped into the room. They flattened themselves and settled into an already full tray. Kingsley sighed. "And these are only the important ones." He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione avoided Harry's eyes as she neatly stacked their breakfast dishes. Tired of her new trepidation around him, Harry looked around for something to distract himself. His eyes roamed Kingsley's desk until he caught a familiar sight: his own face staring back at him. With a start, he realized that it was the cover of that morning's Daily Prophet.

He grabbed the paper and looked at himself. The photograph was not from this morning to his relief. He was sure he would make the Evening Prophet, but they had been at the Ministry before this edition had gone to print. It was a picture of him, standing next to Ron and Hermione in front of the castle, mere hours after the battle. In the daze after the fight, he hadn't even realized that he'd been photographed. The headline above it read: "Where is the Chosen One?"

Harry studied the picture. It was the first real look he had taken of himself in months. While he had examined his injuries, he had never really evaluated himself or his best friends. They all had an air of bittersweet happiness and relief about them. Harry was startled to see how skinny they all were. Ron especially looked underfed, his skin had an almost waxy look to it. His skinniness made him look even lankier than usual. Hermione's hair, while bushy as ever, was matted and limp. The tiny image of her moved, and Harry could see how her clothes looked to be hanging off of her. The Harry in the photo turned and glared at the real one. He was shocked to see how much he had changed. His face was drawn, his hair more unruly than usual. It was his eyes that startled him the most, though. While he looked peaceful, his eyes were sunken and dark. He was reminded of how Sirius had looked after they had rescued him: happy to be free, but still burdened by the memory of suffering. The picture Harry turned away, walking up to the castle door.

Harry was starting to read the article when the door opened. Kingsley walked in, followed by a wizard in a dark brown Auror's coat and a witch in professional robes. Harry and Hermione stood up.

"Harry, Hermione, this is Obliviator Nancy Watts," Kingsley said, indicating the witch. She was middle aged, thin, and dressed smartly, her dark hair carefully woven in a long braid. "And this is Head Auror Gawain Robards," indicating the wizard. He was middle-aged as well, with more grey than brown in his hair. He was stocky and shorter than Harry and a large bristly mustache seemed to dominate his face.

They shook hands with a smattering of "Nice to meet you"s. Kingsleys then had Harry and Hermione repeat the story of the attack at Grimmauld Place. At Kingsley's insistence, Harry also gave his theory of the Death Eaters and the Memory Modification.

"That's certainly a theory, Mr. Potter," Robards said as Harry finished. "But why wouldn't they have placed curses or more traps? This seems almost too simple for a Death Eater."

Watts looked at them, and then said "Why don't we get your house-elf here, Harry, and question him. If his memory has been modified, we can try and restore it."

"Obliviator Watts is the best we have at repairing memories," Kingsley said to Harry and Hermione.

Harry called Kreacher, who appeared with the typical loud CRACK. He was looking better than he did yesterday. Harry and Hermione had checked on him that morning. Kreacher insisted that he make them breakfast and get them clean clothes, but Harry had ordered him to rest. It seemed that the rest was doing him good. He no longer looked shaky or unstable.

Kreacher looked around the office. "Master Harry has called Kreacher," he said, bowing.

"Kreacher, you remember Kingsley," Harry said, indicating to the Minister. "This is Obliviator Watts and Auror Robards. They are going to ask you some questions to try and figure out what happened. Is it alright if they perform some magic to try and see if someone tampered with your memories?"

Kreacher bowed again. "Kreacher will do as his Master wants."

"Thank you Kreacher," Harry said, and then stepped back.

Robards began to question Kreacher, but received the same story that Harry and Hermione had gotten. He then asked some questions about the Death Eaters that had come into the house, but Kreacher couldn't remember any faces or descriptions. All the house-elf remembered was that someone had invaded the house after Harry, Ron, and Hermione had fled. This apparently satisfied Robards because he turned to Watts, nodding.

Watts knelt down next to Kreacher and drew her wand. "Kreacher, I am going to attempt to remove any spells that have modified your memory. This might take some time and you may have some strange thoughts. If you are calm, it will go easier." Kreacher slowly nodded at her, studying her with his watery eyes. She looked back at Harry, who also nodded. She placed her wand just in front of the elf's bat-like ear, carefully avoiding the tuft of hair that was sprouted from there. Watts closed her eyes and said "Memor Recoliate."

Nothing happened for a moment. Kreacher stood with his eyes closed, looking peaceful and relaxed, Watts' brow was furrowed in concentration. Harry, Hermione, Kingsley and Robards continued to stand, watching. Another long moment passed. Harry was beginning to wonder just how long it would take when Kreacher started to shudder. Harry first noticed it on the tip of his ears, but as he watched it spread down to his head and to his body. His arms began to shake and then his legs and feet. Harry started forward, prepared to wrench Kreacher away from the spell when suddenly Watt's and Kreacher's eyes snapped open and they both gasped for air.

Watts slowly stood up, shaking her head. Sweat beaded her forehead. "I couldn't do it," she said, half to herself. She frowned, looking confused. "Either the memory modification spell is too powerful or it doesn't work on house-elves."

Harry knelt down beside Kreacher. He thought the elf looked pale, but he wasn't shaking any more. "Kreacher, are you alright?"

The elf swallowed hard and then turned to Harry. "Kreacher will be fine. Wizard magic is strange to house-elves."

Harry understood. The magical differences between elves and wizards always astounded him. "Kreacher, I want you to go home and rest." Harry looked at Robards, who was conferring quietly with Kingsley. "There may be some more Aurors coming by later. Just ignore them and get well."

Kreacher bowed, trembling slightly. "Very well, Master Harry." With a snap of his fingers, the house-elf Disapparated.

Hermione helped a wincing Harry back to his feet. His chest was still paining him. Kingsley and Robards turned to them. "Harry, Robards and a team of Aurors and Curse-Breakers will, with your permission, investigate your home," Kingsley said. "Maybe they can learn something about what happened."

Over Kingsley's shoulder, Harry thought he saw Robards give a look of frustration. Frowning slightly, Harry said "Alright, that should be fine. I'll need to let them under the Secret though, otherwise they won't be about to find it."

Kingsley gave him a scrap of parchment and a quill. Harry carefully wrote "Harry Potter lives at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London." He handed it over to Robards.

Robards looked at it, and then carefully pocketed it. "Minister, I'll get on this immediately. We have much to do beyond clearing out an old house." Without further ado, he proceeded out the door, shutting it behind him.

Kingsley paused for a moment, studying the closed door. With a brief sigh, he turned back to the others in his office. "Hermione, I've assigned Nancy to travel with you and help you recover your parent's memories." The Obliviator gave her a warm smile. "You'll also need to speak with the Department of International Cooperation and the Department of Magical Transportation. I've already spoken with them, so they should be ready to make arrangements for you." He gave her a broad smile. "You'll have to excuse any chaos; we're in the middle of restoring a government."

After Hermione and Watts had left, Kingsley turned to Harry. "I've also arranged for your transportation to the services. Do you have any clothes to change into before we leave?"

Harry looked down at what he was wearing. Old, faded robes that were several inches too short on him, either from shrinking while being washed or him growing. The muggle shirt and jeans he wore underneath were equally as worn. They all hung baggily off of him, due to weight-loss over the past year. Even his shoes were beaten up, the tongue of his left shoe was missing, and there was a large hole in his right. "No," Harry grimaced. "They all were in my bedroom, which is now burned. These are the best I have. And without getting into Gringotts, I don't have enough money to buy any more."

"It's probably best to avoid Gringotts for now, I'd say," Kingsley led the way to the door. "I'm sure the Ministry can cover the cost of new robes. We'd better start early then. You could also use a haircut, if you don't mind me saying so. The press and the people we will be visiting will be more impressed if you show up looking professional." Kingsley must have gotten a look at Harry's face, because he burst out laughing. "The press is not that bad Harry. You'll have to get used to it, I'm afraid."

As Kingsley stopped to have a brief word with his welcome witch, Harry marvelled at how quickly the former Auror had stepped into the role. Harry wasn't exactly sure what his position was in the Auror office was before his temporary appointment of Minister, but it had certainly helped to prepare him for it. He was comfortable and confident, which Harry realized had probably led to this appointment, in addition to his leadership role in the Order. Harry hoped that he would be officially sworn in soon.

A short time later, Kingsley was leading Harry down a narrow corridor towards a single door. As they neared, Harry saw a brass plaque had been attached to the old wood. It read, simply, "Garage". Harry followed Kingsley into the room. They were in what looked like a large parking deck. Harry saw perhaps a dozen of the dark green, old-fashioned Ministry cars parked in a long row. Beside them were several lorries and what looked like a street sweeper. Behind them, he could see some motorcycles and several small boats on trailers. Along the other side was a collection of muggle automotive tools and repair bays that would make Mr. Weasley weep with joy.

Kingsley led the way to the other end of the parking deck. Parked beside a large garage door was a sleek, black car. It was old-fashioned, perhaps older than the green cars, but that only gave the car more class. It was well polished, reflecting the light of the oil lanterns above it. To Harry, it looked like it was made of curves and swoops, and for some reason reminded him of flying. Standing next to the car was a tall man in dark suit, who opened the doors to the back seat for them.

Kingsley nodded to the man, saying "Good Morning Xavior. First stop this morning will be in Diagon Alley."

Harry climbed into the car, behind Kingsley. As he suspected, the car had been magically enhanced as evident in the large seat. He settled himself as the large door ahead of them opened, revealing a long ramp leading upwards.

Quickly, they were pulling out onto a busy muggle street. The ramp had deposited them in what looked like an abandoned mechanic's shop whose doors had opened up when they approached. The black car began to zip around the morning traffic, squeezing in through places the car should not have normally been able to fit.

Harry spent the ride to the Leaky Cauldron watching the muggles on the street going about their business. They had no idea that a war had been fought and won. They didn't know that across the country mothers were mourning for their sons or daughters who had fallen. Harry suddenly longed again for that peaceful place beyond, but, with a sigh, pushed that thought away. He had made his choice, and that mean sharing in the grief his actions brought.

* * *

Harry and Hermione sat across from each other in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place finishing up a dinner of roast, potatoes and carrots. After returning from the funerals and memorial services, Harry and Kingsley had been informed that there were no curses on the house. The aurors had not found any clues to who had set the trap. The inferi had been collected in an attempt to identify the bodies and return them to their families. Additionally, someone had been in and had magically secured the structure of the house until Harry could get someone in to do repairs. With the house declared fit and reasonably secure, Harry and Hermione had returned that night for a supper prepared by Kreacher. The rest had apparently done Kreacher well, because the food was delicious. After he had served them, Harry had sent Kreacher back to bed, telling him to get plenty of rest.

Over their meal, Hermione had filled Harry in on her meetings with various departments. She, Ron, and Nancy Watts would be taking a portkey in a fortnight to Australia. There, they would meet with a member of the Australian magical government and begin the search for her parents.

"Nancy doesn't think it should be too difficult to repair their memories," Hermione had said. "She had difficulties with Kreacher because he's a house-elf. She said that she has performed over a hundred memory repairs with no issues."

Harry only partially listened as Hermione had detailed her plans. He and Kingsley had visited seven families that day. They had attended some funerals, but also simply met with the families. Harry had not really known what to say. He would offer up his condolences, and answer any questions put to him, but he never spoke up. He simply sat and listened to the families talk about their fallen loved one.

The most heart-wrenching funeral had been the last one. It was for a young girl and her mother. Harry hadn't known the girl, Ellie Dunvell. She had been a year behind him and in Ravenclaw. Her mother, Jane, had joined in the fight with the other parents, only to find that her daughter had been killed earlier that night. She had broken down into tears and was killed where she fell. The father was left to bury his wife and daughter. He shed no tears until both caskets had sunk beneath the ground. As his wife's casket disappeared beyond view, he began to wail, sobbing against someone who looked like his brother.

Harry was lost in this memory, so it took Hermione saying his name several times before he was listening to what she was saying.

"Harry? Are you listening? I asked you how you got around to the funerals?" she asked.

Oh. In a ministry car. It worked a lot like the Knight Bus. We'd pop around out in the countryside, and buildings and barns would leap out of the way." Harry said, glad to be distracted from his thoughts. "Except it was a lot smoother. Apparently some bloke who was Minister a long time ago didn't like Apparating or using Floo - "

A misty, silver shape flew in through the window, distracting them. It resolved into the terrier shape of Ron's Patronus. It spoke with Ron's voice. "Just found out about the Inferi. Mum's going mental. We're coming over now."

As the Patronus vanished, emerald green flames leapt up in the fireplace. As they died down, they showed the spinning form of Mr. Weasley. He stepped smartly out of the way, brushing ash off his shoulders.

"I take it Ron warned you?" he asked worriedly. Harry and Hermione nodded. "Good, because - " He was cut short as the green flames appeared again. This time Mrs. Weasley stepped out of the fireplace. Mr. Weasley addressed his wife. "See, Molly, they are just fine. I told you Kingsley said they were alright." Harry thought he heard a note of panic in Mr. Weasley's attempt to calm his wife.

Mrs. Weasley ignored her husband, rushing instead at Harry. "Harry! Hermione! Are you alright?" She grabbed onto Harry, hugging him tightly. "I was so worried! I was afraid that you had been hurt!" She let go of Harry and began to examine him critically. "I can't believe that there were those awful things in this house! Why the Ministry never checked it, I don't know..." Seemingly satisfied with Harry's condition, she turned to Hermione. "Inferi! At Grimmauld Place! And you two had to fight them off all on your own, as if you haven't had enough to deal with!" Hermione seemed to pass her standards as well.

Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips. She was practically shouting now. "I'll be having a word with Kingsley about this! I can't believe that he wouldn't send anyone to help you clear this place out! Why didn't you tell us? We would have come and helped you!"

Harry started to protest "Mrs. Weasley, I - "

However, this just caused her to shout louder. "I wanted you to come with us, but no! You had to be an adult! Harry, you're only seventeen! What possessed you to think that you could have handled this on your own? You should have told us immediately! We only found out because it was in the Evening Prophet that Aurors had gone to your house! I was so worried that you were hurt! Or worse! Arthur talked with Kingsley to see what had happened and then when he told me that you had fought of hordes of Inferi in your own home by yourselves, it nearly killed me! I couldn't have had another one of my children d-die!"

Her words hung in the air for a moment as the realization of what she said crashed against everyone. Tears streamed down Mrs. Weasley's face, and she rushed to Harry, hugging him tightly. She was sobbing as she held him. Mr. Weasley came and laid his arm across his wife's shoulders. After a moment, she released Harry.

"Oh, Harry," she said, her voice still trembling. "I'm sorry. I'm just a mess these past few days. I was so worried about you two." Mr. Weasley handed her a handkerchief and helped her into a chair. She wiped at her eyes, still crying.

"Mum," Ginny said, coming over and gently patting her mother's arm. Harry hadn't seen her or Ron come in. Ron was now standing beside Hermione. They both had concerned looks on their faces.

"I, uh, I'll make some tea," Harry said. He turned and busied himself with the kettle. When he returned with a tray filled with assorted mugs and the hot kettle, the Weasleys and Hermione had all seated themselves. He was passing out the cups when Ron said "So, how did the two of you take on thirty-one Inferi?"

Hermione looked shocked. "Thirty-one? Really? I hadn't heard how many there were..."

Harry nodded, sitting down in the empty chair next to Ron and Hermione. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny sat on the other side of them. "That's what the report that Kingsley showed me said. There were the two down here, and then all the others upstairs."

Mr. Weasley's eyebrows raised high above his glasses. "You two fought twenty-nine inferi at once?"

Hermione set down her cup. "No, Harry did. I didn't hardly do anything." She looked embarrassed.

"That's not true, Hermione. You were protecting Kreacher. I could have never made it all the way upstairs in time," Harry protested.

"What's this about Kreacher?" Ron asked quickly.

Harry realized that he would need to tell the whole story again. He launched into an abbreviated version of it, not wanting to shock or disturb Mrs. Weasley any more. But when he got to fighting off the hoard at the top of the stairs, Hermione interrupted him.

"Harry, you didn't just conjure 'some fire'. You created a massive firestorm!" Hermione exclaimed. "It was really powerful magic. You managed to get all of the Inferi very quickly. Where did you learn that spell?"

Harry was confused. "That was just the normal fire-spell. It was the same one that Dumbledore used when we were in the cave."

Hermione wasn't convinced, because she continued to press him about it "The Fire-Making spell isn't that powerful, Harry. You cast it non-verbally as well! What did you do?"

Harry gave as much of a shrug as possible with his bandages. "I donno. I just knew I needed fire."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "Maybe this is like what happened with your wand last year, Harry. When a wizard is in distress, they can perform all sorts of new, powerful magic."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, drinking his tea. He was glad for the change of subject when Ron asked about what happened to Kreacher. He knew why his wand had performed oddly before. It was due to it's connection to Voldemort's, and it shouldn't be doing that any longer, not after their final fight. What if there was another connection that was making it act strangely? Harry was contemplating running his wand through it's paces to test it when he realized that everyone was looking at him.

"Er, what?" he said, somewhat timidly.

"We were wanting to go look at the damages," Mr. Weasley said. "I think it would put everyone's mind at ease if we could make sure the house is stable." He shot a worried glance to his wife out of the corner of his eye. Mrs. Weasley hadn't said anything since Harry had served tea.

The six of them were soon standing on the third floor landing. A rope had been tied across the banisters of the stairs, in a rather unnecessary attempt to prevent someone from proceeding on to the floor proper. No sane person would try to walk on that floor. Everything was charred. The walls looked worse than before and the ceiling was sagging in several places. The end of the hall was still a messy jumble of broken structures and furniture from the floor above.

Ginny huffed, breaking the silence. Catching Harry's eye, she smirked. "Harry, your room looks awful. You're giving Ron a run for his money."

To Harry's surprise, Mrs. Weasley began to laugh. She turned to her daughter. "Ginny! That is not very nice," she tried to sound stern, but the effect was ruined by her laughter. She looked thoughtful. "Though, I suppose she does have a point, Ronald." That got the rest of them laughing as they made their way back to the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley immediately began to clear the table of the tea things. "Mrs. Weasley, don't bother with that, I can get it," Harry said, stepping forward and taking his and Ron's cups.

"Oh, very well, Harry. It is your house," she said, giving him a faint smile. "I don't suppose I can convince you or Hermione to come and stay with us?"

"No, I'm going to stay here for now," Harry said, firmly. "I don't want to get in your way." Mrs. Weasley's eyes seemed to flash for a moment, but then she nodded.

Hermione looked torn, glancing between Harry and Ron. Before she could say anything, Ron spoke up. "Mum, I'm going to stay here with them," he said, trying to sound just as firm as Harry had. "I think that the three of us should stay together."

Mrs. Weasley had her hands on her hips and had turned to Ron when Mr. Weasley said, quickly, "Ron, you are an adult. If that is what you want to do, then fine." Mrs. Weasley quickly turned to her husband, but he continued. "But, we do expect you to come by in the morning. This is a time for family."

"Thanks, Dad," Ron said. "I'll go get my stuff. Come with me, Hermione?" He grabbed her hand, and pulled her to the fireplace. As they threw the Floo powder onto the fire, Ginny got up.

"I think I will stay here too. I'll get my things as well," Ginny said, standing up to follow them. Harry saw Hermione shoving Ron into the fire as he tried to stay and watch what was happening.

"You will not, Ginevra," Mr. Weasley said, his arm around his wife again. "You are still underage - "

"Only for a few more months!" she protested.

" - so you will do what your mother and I tell you to do," he finished. "However, you don't have to come back right away with us."

Ginny didn't look pleased by this, but she knew better than to argue. She sat back down into a chair, folding her arms.

"Arthur, is this really a good idea?" Mrs. Weasley said, looking up at her husband worriedly.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "They have had a rough year, Molly. Let's give them some time to just be teenagers. Besides, I can't think of a safer place than with Harry, can you?"

Reluctantly, Mrs. Weasley agreed. "Alright," she said, lowering her arms. She turned to Ginny, "I want you home by midnight, not one minute later! Have your brother send us a Patronus when you are on your way." After Ginny promised she would, the Weasleys used the fireplace to Floo back to Muriel's.

As the emerald flames died in the fireplace, Harry realized that he was alone with Ginny. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry. She was looking at him in a very odd way. He felt like he was being examined. He suddenly realized that the last time he had really been alone with her like this was his birthday. He had been alone with her yesterday, but they had been so wrapped up in the aftermath of the battle that it hadn't felt like this did now.

Harry cast around for anything to say. Before he could even think of anything, Ginny reached in her cloak and pulled out a scrap of paper. She tossed it at him, saying "So, Potter, what do you have to say about this?" She raised a critical eyebrow at him as he pulled the crumpled page apart.

He recognized that it was a clipping from the front page of the Evening Prophet. The headline read "**Harry Potter Returns!**" A picture of him and Hermione holding hands in the Atrium dominated the front page. The caption read "Harry Potter and girlfriend Hermione Granger on their way to attend a secret meeting with Acting Minister For Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt early this morning."

Harry felt his face flush. "Hermione and I - We aren't - Rita Skeeter -" he stammered, crumpling the clipping.

Ginny stood up, putting her fists on her hips. "So you didn't come across any veela all year, but Hermione was there the whole time? I thought you said that you wouldn't have any time for a bit of a snog! Is that why she wanted to stay here last night?"

"No! Well, yes! I mean - " Harry continued to stumble over his words. This wasn't how he had pictured his first time alone with Ginny going. Why did everyone seem to think that he and Hermione were dating? "Nothing happened between me and Hermione, I swear!"

Ginny suddenly snorted and broke out into peals laughter. Too late, Harry realized that she had been teasing him the whole time and he had fallen face first into it. Ginny was doubled over, laughing at him.

Grinning, Harry swore and threw the clipping at her head. He missed and it flew to the floor behind her. That just caused her to laugh harder. He leaned back and waited for her to calm down.

"You should have seen your face," Ginny finally managed to say, still giggling. She slumped back down in her chair, apparently exhausted from mirth. She wiped a tear from her eye, her shoulders still shaking slightly. "For the Chosen One, you're not that bright, are you?" she said, smirking at him.

"Apparently not," Harry said, hanging his head in mock shame. "I didn't even finish my last year of school. I thought camping would be more fun." That set them both to laughing again.

When they had both calmed down, Ginny gave Harry another look. "So, was there?"

"Was there what?" Harry asked. "Any time for snogging? Not for me. Only girl I spent time with was Hermione. She's always been like a sister to me, so that would have been weird." He paused. "What about you?" he asked carefully. His heart was pounding in his chest, waiting for her answer.

"We were too busy tormenting Snape and the Carrows for any late night snogging," she said. Ginny smiled coyly at him, and leaned towards him across the table. "Sounds like we are both out of practice then."

Harry's heart continued to beat fast as he found himself leaning forward as well. He was inches from her, and he could smell that flowery scent that he had missed. He spoke, his voice oddly deep. "Uh, yeah. I think - "

The sudden slamming of the front door jerked Harry back to reality. A moment later Ron and Hermione trooped into the kitchen, hand in hand. Ginny shot them a stern look. "Where have you two been?"

Ron's face flushed deep red up to the roots of his hair, but Hermione just beamed. "Well, we went to get Ron's things. Then, he said he had somewhere he wanted to take me first, so he Apparated us out to the forest of Dean." She looked back at Ron, squeezing his hand. "He told me some very nice things, and well... now we're really together."

"About time," Ginny said, grinning. "Although, I'll never understand what you see in him. Krum was a much better Quidditch player."

Ron's look of outrage and indignation caused them all to erupt into laughter. They soon moved to the sitting room, where they talked of everything but the war until it was time for Ginny to go. Harry walked her back down to the kitchen fireplace while Ron sent his Patronus to his parents.

"Thanks for staying, Ginny," Harry said as he handed her the small box containing the Floo powder.

"Hermione needed someone to even out the sides," Ginny teased. "I don't know how she managed all year with you two boys. That tent must have smelled awful!"

"I smell pretty good, thank you very much!" Harry shot back.

****Ginny suddenly stepped very, very close to him. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she lowered her nose down against his chest and gave an exaggerated sniff. She raised her head so she was now looking up at him. Harry had to crane just to see her. She gave him that coy smile from earlier. "Not too bad Potter. I think you'll pass," she said quietly.

Just then, the clock above the mantle began to chime midnight. Ginny swore, and took a handful of Floo powder. She tossed it into the fireplace and jumped into the flames. She spun around and gave Harry a wink as she said "Oakwood Estate!" She disappeared in a rush of green flames and red hair, leaving Harry wishing they had come downstairs a little earlier.


	7. Graveyards

_From his position on the broom, Harry felt like he could see all of London. He zoomed through clouds, flying loops and spins for the thrill of it. He burst through another cloud and spellfire erupted around him. Dozens of Harry Potters dived and dodged as Death Eaters as large as dragons conjured deadly spells and flames from their massive wands. All around him, he saw himself dying over and over. Killing spells crashed into some; others fell as the ends of their brooms caught fire. Harry watched the massacre, unable to save himself. Over the rush of the wind, he heard a cold voice saying "Bow to death, Harry Potter."_

_A flash of long red hair shot past him, and Harry charged after it into the dark clouds. Ginny looked over her shoulder at him and screamed. Harry realized that he was no longer on his broom; he was magically soaring. He blasted forward, and his long white fingers curled through the red hair. He pulled hard, slamming her against his chest. Delicately, he raised the Elder Wand against the pale flesh of her throat. "Sectumsempra!" he whispered. He let go of the corpse, watching it fall back down towards the earth until it became lost amongst the lights of the city. Grinning madly, he raised his wand, the great, green Dark Mark blossoming out of it, larger than the full moon._

Harry lay, unmoving in his bed, the memory of the dream playing over and over in his mind. He shuddered, remembering Ginny's scream of fear upon seeing him...then his long, pale arms reaching out for her hair... He felt sick to his stomach at the memory of the joy at watching her lifeless body falling towards the ground far, far below. Harry's hands gripped the sheets as he struggled with the aftereffects of the nightmare.

Nightmares had plagued his sleep every night since the battle. He had thought originally that a nightmare not fueled by the connection to Voldemort was a good thing, a sign of the end of the war. Now, after more nights filled with the dead haunting him and the horrifying reminders of his past, he was beginning to think of them as a curse. He couldn't blame these frightening creations on Voldemort or their shared souls. Instead, they were from his own mind. He wondered if he would ever find peace, even though the worst was over.

He debated laying in his bed and trying to fall asleep, but he knew that peaceful sleep would not come. Even if he could fall asleep, he would only be tormented by more nightmares. Still, Harry refused to move. The past three days had been difficult and trying. He and Kingsley had attended many funerals and visited many grieving families. Some refused to see them, blaming them for the loss of their loved one. One father who had lost his son during the fight had outright told Harry that he had caused their son's death and that he ought to suffer the same fate. Kingsley had declared their meeting with that family over, and had reassured Harry that the family was completely misguided.

They weren't the worst families though. The most difficult ones were the families that said nothing. Harry thought of them as the ghost families, where the people didn't seem to interact with the physical world, and where his meager words could not affect them. He knew how they felt. He had felt the same way the summer after Sirius died. Harry knew that it was a pain that would never really go away.

That morning, he and Kingsley would be going to visit the last of the families. Then, in the afternoon, Harry would be attending two funerals as a mourner instead of a visitor. The muggle funeral for Colin Creevey was in the early afternoon, and then that evening was the services for the Lupins. He would be a pallbearer in each service.

Harry vaguely wondered what would happen if he just refused to get out of bed. Would they replace him? He knew that if he remained hidden in his room, the world would continue on without him. But, he suspected that the world would eventually seek him out. It seemed that his name was everywhere in the news. He had taken to reading the Daily Prophet as he and Kingsley had driven around the country going to funerals. His exploits were always front page news, and speculation of his whereabouts over the past year filled the paper.

He had also unfortunately grown used to the reporters at the funerals, all trying to capture an image of him with the grieving families. One usually ended up in the Evening Prophet, alongside a list of those who had been buried that day. They were calling them the Hogwarts Fifty-Three, numbered for those who had died defending the castle during The Battle of Hogwarts. The always seemed to find a way to include Harry in these stories as well, calling him the Hero of Hogwarts.

He even made it to the editorials, including in a somewhat disturbing article calling for him to lead the government on a pureblood purge. The author, a self-proclaimed 'proud muggleborn' named Malcolm Young, claimed  
_"All the recent atrocities against our own kind and those of our magical brethren have been performed at the direction of the so-called purebloods. Their blood is no longer pure because it holds the stain of such violent, malevolent acts. We muggleborn and half-bloods need to stand up and remove these people from such positions of power to prevent further pain and suffering and restore true justice back into our world."_  
Harry had marveled that the Prophet had printed it, but he marked it up to a sign of the changes people were clamoring for.

Reluctantly, Harry slowly sat up and pulled on his glasses. His chest was not hurting him as bad as it had been, but after a night of restless sleep, it was rather stiff. He checked his pocket watch and was surprised to find that it was almost dawn. He hadn't slept much since the nightmares had started. He dressed in loose muggle clothing and headed downstairs. After checking in the kitchen to see if anyone was up and seeing no one, Harry grabbed a jacket and headed out the front door.

The day before he had slipped out for an early morning walk after another tormenting nightmare, this one of him being condemned by the Wizengamot and his wand snapped on charges of war crimes. The cool air and the quiet of the pre-dawn muggle world appealed to him by offering it's anonymity. It had helped to clear his mind and each step seemed to push the fear and guilt back deep down inside of him. Harry walked slowly, his tired muscles and chest protesting.

He didn't know how far he had gotten or how long he had been walking when he stopped against the brick wall of a grocer's to catch his breath. He had been concentrating on moving his feet, rather than thinking of the dream-memory of Ginny's lifeless body falling. As he leaned, his hands on his knees, the silvery otter shape of Hermione's Patronus flew to him in the near-dawn light. Harry glanced around, but there was no one about this early.

"See Ron? I can too do the charm." Hermione's voice coming from the otter sounded distracted, but then became focused and worried. "Harry. Where are you? Please come home."

Harry laughed in spite of himself. He summoned his own Patronus, thinking of the joy his two bickering friends gave him. "Good job Hermione. I went for a walk. Be back soon," he said, sending the stag prancing away. He turned back the way he came, and headed back to Grimmauld Place as dawn broke above the skyline.

* * *

Harry walked into the kitchen to the familiar sounds of Ron and Hermione stopped as soon as he came in the door. They were seated at the table beside each other, but looked up guiltily as he entered. "Don't stop on my account," he said, lowering himself into his customary chair at the end of the table.

"Harry! Where were you?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Out for a walk around muggle London." he said helping himself to the pile of toast in front of them. Kreacher suddenly bustled out of the pantry, carrying a basket of eggs.

Ron looked confused. "What'd you do that for?" he asked.

Harry just shrugged around his bandages and ate at his toast.

"We were just worried, Harry," Hermione said. "We were about ready to come look for you when you came back. Didn't you think to leave a note?"

"No, it was just a walk," Harry said defensively. "Why, what did you think had happened?"

Ron and Hermione shared a look. "Oh, um, nothing mate," Ron said. "We just didn't know."

Harry glared. "Are you two still thinking that I'm going to run off? I thought it would have been obvious by now that I'm sticking around. Is that why you two have been staying with me?"

The look that passed between Ron and Hermione was the confirmation that Harry was looking for. He now knew Hermione's real reasons for staying with him that first night. "Did you just think I would abandon everyone? That I would not help out?" Harry realized that this was almost exactly what he had been thinking about doing that morning by refusing to leave the house, but he plowed on. "I can't do that! Too many people have died and fought and trusted in me for me not to do everything I can for those of us still left."

Before Ron could start protesting, Hermione quickly said "You're right Harry. We know you better. We were just worried, right Ron?" She looked back at Ron, who slowly nodded his agreement.

They sat in silence for a bit, until Kreacher brought over the now cooked eggs. Between bites, Harry said "So what exactly are you two doing up this early?"

"Well, we've got to talk to the blokes in the Australian Ministry. Apparently it's tomorrow there or something to do with time cones." Ron answered.

"Time zones, Ron," Hermione chidded. "And it's not tomorrow, it's just eleven hours ahead of England. So if we want talk with anyone there at a reasonable hour we have to get up extra early." She glanced at the clock on top of the fireplace. "Ron! We're running late!" Hermione stood up so quickly her chair fell over. She rushed out of the room.

Ron rolled his eyes and quickly shoveled more egg into his mouth. He was drinking the last of his pumpkin juice when Hermione threw open the door again. "Ronald! Hurry!" He gave Harry a look, then hurried out of the door. A moment later the front door slammed shut behind them, leaving Harry alone to finish his breakfast.

* * *

"Alright, it's time," the muggle church minister said. Harry slowly bent down and grabbed onto the rail attached to the side of the coffin. To his left, Dennis was doing the same, and Harry knew that behind him the two other pallbearers were as well. One was a Gryffindor from Colin's year, a boy named Allen if Harry remembered right. The other was Colin's muggle cousin Cliff, who Harry had met only moments before. They stood slowly, balancing the heavy weight between them.

The minister opened the doors, and the five of them stepped out into the small graveyard behind the church. The minister slowly led them down a gravel path to where a small group was gathered. Harry was forced to concentrate on the task at hand. The coffin was very heavy, and the difference in height between him and Dennis was making it difficult to keep it steady and level.

When they finally reached the gravesite, the small crowd parted. The minister directed them to place the coffin on a small stand next to the grave. A small headstone read:

**Colin Walter Creevey**  
**12 December 1981 - 2 May 1998**  
**Beloved son and brother**

The four of them gently laid down the coffin, and then stepped into the crowd. Harry took his place in the crowd. Beside him Ron had an arm around Hermione as she wept quietly. Ginny, her hands clasped behind her back, stood on his other side, next to a surprisingly somber Luna. They were all dressed in their muggle best: Harry and Ron in dark suits and the girls in dark dresses, although Luna was wearing her dirigible plum-shaped earrings. Looking around, Harry saw that the rest of Dumbledore's Army was there, as were many of Colin's classmates. Harry assumed that the rest of those gathered were part of Colin's family.

Harry only half-listened to the minister. He had heard similar speeches many, many times throughout the week, and he didn't want to hear another, especially about a boy who had been his friend. His mind began to drift, thinking back to how quickly he had mastered the Impediment Jinx. Harry was so lost in his thoughts and memories that he didn't realize that other people were getting up to speak until he heard Dennis.

"I wasn't with Colin when... when he had his accident," Dennis was saying. "But, I wanted to be. He knew that it wouldn't be safe for me to go, so he made me stay home. He was like that, always looking out for me. He was really excited when we found out that I was going to Hogwarts too, and he showed me all these pictures of the school and his friends there. It seemed like a magical place." Dennis managed to smile slightly at the small joke, despite the tears now running down his face. "It won't be the same without him there next year. It won't be the same ever a-again," he paused. "Thanks for being such a good b-big b-brother, Colin," he managed to say. He returned to his parents, his small mother giving him a long hug.

Harry was surprised to see Professor McGonagall step forward next. He hadn't realized that she would be here. "Colin was a very good student. He was very eager and excited about every subject.I was very proud to be his Head of House." Her strong voice seemed to waver for a moment, but then it continued. "He displayed the qualities that every Gryffindor should: courage and justice. He was a very, very brave boy..." She turned to the coffin beside her, and whispered something that Harry couldn't hear. Then, she stepped back into the crowd.

Several more people from Colin's year or family also stepped forward and said a few words. Each time one of them would finish, the Hogwarts students would look at Harry, but would look away when someone else stepped forward. Finally, no one was stepping forward anymore. Harry's eyes fixated on the coffin that held the body of Colin, trying to avoid the looks that people were giving him. Luna broke the silence. "Harry," she whispered, slightly louder than necessary, "Everyone is looking at you. I think they want you to say something."

Reluctantly, he took a step forward, and another and another until he was in front of everyone. He cleared his throat. He didn't know what to say. How do you tell someone's friends and family that the boy they are burying that night died because he was fighting for you? Harry's eye sought out Ginny. She gave him the tiniest nod possible, and her encouragement seemed to open up what was trapped inside of him. He cleared his throat again, and spoke in a clear voice.

"Colin was a year behind me in school, but I got to know him over the years. He was always so excited to be at school and to be with friends." Harry looked at Dennis. "Colin was everything that everyone has said, kind and brave and noble. But he was also a person that enjoyed life. I think that's why he always carried that camera. He wanted to capture those moments of life and hold onto them forever. His sacrifice, his fight was done so that others could enjoy life like that." Harry slowly turned to the coffin. "Colin, I'm so sorry that things happened the way they did."

Harry walked back to the others. Hermione was crying softly into Ron's handkerchief. As he stepped up to them, Ginny wrapped her arms around him in a brief hug. Her face was damp with tears, but she wasn't weeping. He watched as the minister gave the closing words to the ceremony and the crowd slowly dispersed, heading back to the church or to leave.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna didn't leave immediately. They waited until the ministers and the muggle relatives were in conversation until they walked up to Dennis.

"Hey," the small boy said quietly. "Thanks for saying those things, Harry. Colin would have been proud."

Harry wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded. Thankfully, Hermione spoke up. "Dennis, do you have Colin's DA Galleon?" she asked.

Dennis reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out the golden coin that Hermione had enchanted to allow Dumbledore's Army to secretly communicate with one another. She took it from him, and with a glance around to make sure the muggles weren't watching, pulled out her wand and waved it quickly over it's face. She looked it over, and, satisfied, handed it back to Dennis.

He studied it, and then said "This is very nice, Hermione." He looked at the coffin for a moment, and then back to Harry. "Harry, do you think you could stick this to the coffin?" He handed the coin to Harry.

"Er, I can, yeah. Come with me, though," he said to Dennis. The two of them walked to the coffin and stood next to it. Harry looked at the coin in his hand. They had passed the secret messages to one another by changing the serial numbers on the coin, which then duplicated the message on each other's coins. Hermione had changed the enchantment on this coin. The serial numbers now said "HERO". After a glance at Dennis, Harry placed the coin on the lid of the coffin. He discreetly drew his wand and silently cast a Sticking Charm on it.

"Thanks, Harry. Thanks for everything," Dennis said. He looked at Harry for a moment, and then back at the others. "Well, see you around," he said as he turned and walked back to his family.

Harry was surprised to hear how adult Dennis sounded. He just remembered the tiny, excitable boy and his brother playing around in the Gryffindor Common Room. He was beginning to realize just how much the war had changed people. Looking up, he could see the others making their way back to the church.

He slowly walked after them, coming up to Ginny who was behind the others. She was drying her face with her sleeve. As Harry drew level with her, she looped her arm through his. He flinched slightly, remembering his dream from last night. She gave him a look, but he didn't respond. "Come along, Harry," she whispered. "It's time to go to Godric's Hollow."

* * *

Dusk found Harry paused outside the kissing gate that led to the cemetery beside the little church in Godric's Hollow. His mind was filled with the memories of Christmas day spent out beside the snowy graves of his parents and of the attack at Bathilda Bagshot's house. While the weather was much warmer than it was that night months ago, Harry found himself shivering slightly.

He heard footsteps and familiar voices approaching in the dark. Looking up the street, he saw Ron, Hermione, and Ginny studying the memorial to his parents. From where he stood, it appeared as the muggles of the village must have seen it, a tall obelisk carved with the names of soldiers, but Harry knew that if a wizard approached it that a statue of his parents and a baby him would appear in it's place. His friends hadn't seen him, but he could hear their conversation as it drifted down the darkened street.

"So that's Harry's mum and dad?" Ron asked. "I see why everyone says he looks like them."

"His mother looks very kind," Ginny observed.

The back door to the church opened, distracting Harry by sending a long rectangle of light out across the tombstones. Harry saw Mr. Weasley and Kingsley step out into the graveyard. They spotted him and headed in his direction. "Harry, we're ready as soon as you are," Mr. Weasley said, his voice more quiet than usual. Harry nodded, and followed them into the church.

Moments later, as the sun faded beyond the horizon, the small procession exited the church. Harry, Kingsley, Mr. Weasley, and Bill lead the way, shouldering Remus's coffin. Behind them, Gawain Robards and three other men that Harry didn't know carried the one that contained Tonks. They slowly made their way forward, using the light of the moon to guide them along the dark path.

Harry found the physical task of carrying this coffin easier than Colin's, but that only allowed his mind to focus on the ceremony. He was carrying the last of his father's closests friends; the final Marauder would be laid to rest tonight. These two thoughts burned in his mind as he slowly trudged forward.

The witches and wizards in dark robes stood reverently to one side as the procession approached. Before them were two dark, wooden platforms, covered by a dark cloth. Harry and the others gently set the coffins down atop them; Remus on the left, and Tonks on the right. At the head of the platforms stood a large, white headstone. It read:

** Remus John Lupin Nymphadora Rene Tonks Lupin**  
**10 March 1960 - 2 May 1998 23 September 1973 - 2 May 1998**  
**Who could refrain that had a heart to love**  
**and in that heart courage to make love known?**

Harry stood beside the platform, staring at the headstone. He knew that Remus had been one of the most courageous men that Harry had met. He fought not only dark wizards as part of the Order, but he strived to live a normal wizard's life despite the stigma of being a werewolf. Harry's memories burned with self-hatred when he recalled the fight they had months ago in Grimmauld Place. He knew that Remus had forgiven him, but he still regretted calling him a coward.

Harry was jerked out of his thoughts as Mr. Weasley gently laid a hand on his shoulder. They stepped back and joined the small gathering, falling in line beside the rest of the Weasleys, Hermione, and Hagrid. As Harry took his place beside Hagrid, the large man clapped him heavily on the shoulder. Wincing slightly in the pain the blow caused his arm and ribs, Harry watched as Kingsley stood ahead of the platform and began to speak.

"Remus and Nymphadora are heroes," he began quietly. "They have paid the highest price to create for us a free world. Their sacrifices, and the sacrifices of the others, have enabled us to free ourselves from the clutches of evil."

Kingsley's words washed over Harry as the man continued the eulogy. The aching pit that had opened within him during the battle would not be filled by those words. The pain had not eased, instead it had remained a constant drain upon him, much like that of his ribs. They accompanied him to each funeral, and now, at the service for the man who had been the first thing to a father that Harry had known, the pit seemed to grow deeper and darker. The only relief Harry knew was that white, peaceful place beyond. That's where Lupin and Tonks were. That's where his parents and Sirius and Dumbledore were. They knew the peacefulness of that place, he had seen it on their faces when he used the Resurrection Stone. Their presence around him had given him that same peace and that had strengthened him enough to continue forward. Now, he felt weak and alone.

Harry refocused as Kingsley stepped back into the crowd. A small wizard with a tuft of white hair, the same one who had been at all of the wizarding funerals, stepped forward. Drawing his wand, he floated the coffins into the air. Another wave of his wand vanished the platforms. As he gently lowered the coffins into the ground, he said "May all who come here know what you have done. May all remember that Remus John Lupin and Nymphadora Rene Tonks Lupin gave their lives so that others could be free."

As the coffins of the Lupins slipped past view, a baby's cry shattered the air. Harry numbly looked around, searching. In the center of the crowd, a woman with her back to him was patiently trying to calm the infant. As the baby took in a deep breath to continue it's screaming cry, Harry suddenly heard her whispering to the baby as she gently rocked him back and forth. "Shhh Teddy. Mummy and Daddy love you. Shhhh." She turned as she comforted the baby, and Harry saw wisps of purple hair poking above blankets.

The pit inside of Harry deepened as he looked at his godson. Teddy's cries seemed to reverberate within Harry, anchoring him in place. He felt as if his insides just fell out of him, dropping deep within the earth. Harry stared as the small boy wailed despite his grandmother's attempts to calm him.

People began moving around him, but he stood still, rooted. He was transfixed by the tears and cries of the child. Harry was dimly aware of someone, probably Hermione, tugging on his arm in an attempt to get him to move, but Harry pushed her away. He stared, unable to move. He felt that if he were to take even the smallest step away from that spot that the world would shatter. Slowly, the gathered witches and wizards dispersed, returning back to the church. Finally, even Andromeda, who now had Ted against her shoulder, left the graveside. The baby had stopped crying just moments before.

Harry stood alone in the graveyard. He looked back at the two fresh graves in front of him. The Lupins had their peace, but Harry couldn't find his. His gaze slowly lifted, scanning along the rows of headstones beyond. Harry's eyes found what they were searching for two rows away, and, without realizing it, he lurched forward towards his parent's graves.

The stumbling walk seemed as if it took forever, but he was there sooner than he thought possible. In front of him lay his own parents, sleeping beneath the cool ground. He stood still for a moment, the pit inside of him deepening into a dark abyss. He felt as if he would fall in and never come out. As he teetered on the brink, the memory of his parent's proud smiles in the forest rose in his memory.

"I miss you," Harry whispered.

At those words, something inside of him broke. The deep abyss vanished and his senses came rushing back at him. Harry choked out a sob and began to cry. His knees shook and he collapsed forward onto the ground. Harry lay on the ground, above and between where his parents lay, tears quietly streaming. All the grief of the past week seemed to be welling up through him. All the hurt that he had collected at each funeral, all the loss that he had borne upon himself and hidden away inside of him churned inside of him. His tears seemed to release those tormenting pains from within him, sending them out into the world. Harry suddenly yearned for his mother. He wanted to run into her arms, to have her comfort him and sooth away his pains. However, he was as close to her right now as he could ever get.

Harry lay on the ground, crying more than he ever had in his life. The grass prickled against his face, but he did not care. Even if he did, he did not have the strength to move. All that he seemed to be able to do was cry.

A gentle hand brushing against his back startled him, but he did not move. The hand began to rub along his shoulders, slowly and comfortingly. Harry found himself calming down, bit by bit. He could feel his tears drying and strength returning to him. He slowly pushed himself up to a kneeling position. His glasses were askew, but he saw two people beside him. As he adjusted his glasses, he could see that the closest was Mrs. Weasley. She knelt beside him, her hand still on his shoulder, looking concerned. Beside her, Ginny sat, also kneeling, her hands clasped in her lap, her expression mirroring her mother's.

"Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said simply. She started to expand her arms around him for a hug, but Harry found himself collapsing against her. She held him tightly, one hand stroking his hair and the other across his shoulders, pulling him tightly to her. To his surprise, Harry began to sob again, although it was not as deeply heart wrenching as it was moments before. As he slowly regained control of himself, Harry slowly broke the embrace.

Mrs. Weasley squeezed him tightly and then let him go. She climbed back to her feet and helped Harry to his. Ginny came and stood on the other side of Harry, her hands held behind her back. Harry found that he felt empty inside, but not in the way as before. Instead, he felt as if something he had been carrying around had been removed from him. He had not even known that it was there, but now that it was gone, he could notice it's absence. He still felt all the grief and pain that he had before, but it was muted and dull now. He no longer felt like he must bury those feelings in order to live. Some of the peace he had been longing for had returned to him.

After a moment Harry turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry about that."

"Nonsense, dear," Mrs. Weasley said motherly. She patted his arm kindly. "You've been though a lot. I'm just glad Ginny noticed that you didn't return with everyone else."

Another long moment passed as they studied his parent's grave. A thought came to Harry, one that he was surprised that hadn't occurred to him before.

"Mrs. Weasley?" he asked tentatively. "Does Sirius have... does he have a tombstone?"

"Oh, Harry," she said carefully. "No, no he doesn't. There was no body for us to bury."

"Do you think anyone would mind if I made one here for him?" he questioned.

Mrs. Weasley gave him a warm smile, but he thought he could see her eyes watering. "I think that is a good idea, Harry." She patted his arm again, then said "I think Kingsley could see to it."

"No," Harry insisted. "I want to do it now." He looked around, and spotted a small stone laying against the low wall surrounding the graveyard. He quickly stepped over and retrieved it. He returned to where Mrs. Weasley and Ginny stood.

Beside his parent's tombstone was a small space. He set the stone down, and drew his wand. He quickly transfigured it into a roughly rectangular, white headstone. Another few wave of his wand, and the headstone was placed into a new hole in the ground. As it settled in heavily, Harry knelt, and began to magically carve into it. Unlike with Dobby's tombstone, Harry tried to use blockier, more formal lettering. After a moment, he stood up, satisfied with his work. He returned to stand between Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

**Sirius Orion Black **  
**7 February 1959 - 18 June 1996**  
**Last of the House of Black**  
**A noble man**

Harry felt a sense of completion come across him as he studied the gravemarker of his godfather. His father's friends, the men who had looked after him in his parents' absence, would not be forgotten. He remembered how they looked in the Forbidden Forest. They were peaceful and happy, their worries long past them. Their presence around him in the forest had been the only thing that kept him going, but now, after what felt like an eternity, their memories continued to bring him a small measure of comfort.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley glancing up at the church. "You can go back inside if you want to. I'm alright now. I just want a few more minutes," he said quietly. He wasn't ready to face the small crowd of people yet, even if they were his friends.

"If you are sure, Harry. I need to help with the refreshments," Mrs. Weasley said. She gave him another reassuring hug. "We'll see you inside. Come along, Ginny."

"Mum, I'm going to stay here with Harry," she said, quiet but firm. Harry looked at her, but she was focused on her mother.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips slightly, but after a moment, she nodded. "Alright. Just make sure to come up before the reception ends." She then proceeded to make her way up to the church.

The two of them stood in silence, studying the graves in front of them. However, after a moment, Harry found that he was not looking so much at the tombstones as he was looking at Ginny. She stood beside him, hands clasped behind her back. Her dark dress robes seemed to blend into the darkness around them.

Ginny must have felt Harry's eyes on her, because she turned to face him. Harry suddenly realized that there were a thousand things that he wanted to tell her and a million questions he wanted to ask. They had been there for days, but had been buried beneath the weight of guilt and sorrow.

Their eyes met, and the questions died away, except for one. "You alright?" he ask her quietly.

She shook her head slowly, her eyes dropping to the ground. "No," she said simply.

"Me either."

Harry hesitantly took a small step towards Ginny just as she turned her back to him. Taking another small step forward, he awkwardly reached his hand out to brush against her shoulder. She slid both of her hands up over his, gently holding it in place.

"I miss Tonks and Remus." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "And F-Fred."

"Me too," he said. He took another step forward so that he was standing beside her, his arm across her shoulders. She let go of his hand, and wrapped her arm around his waist, pulling him closer to her so she could lean her head onto his shoulder.

They stood beside one another in the silence for another long moment. Finally, Ginny pulled her head away and rubbed at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. She reached out her other hand and took Harry's. Turning to face him, she said "We'd better head back up."

Harry nodded. "Let's go meet my godson," he said with a smile. They turned around and walked up to the church hand in hand.


End file.
